


Veils

by Brennah_K



Series: Stop the Universe, I want to get off! [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Aftermath, Angst, Canon Abuse or abuse of canon, Canon-shifting, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Psychological Torture, Stargate SG1 - Freeform, The Family We Make
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brennah_K/pseuds/Brennah_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To most everyone in the Ministry of Magic, including Minister Fudge himself, the veil was an archway to the realm of death- used to execute the inconvenient political 'criminals', who had unjustly suffered in the Ministry's custody. Only a few of the oldest unspeakables knew otherwise...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

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To most everyone in the Ministry of Magic,

including Minister Fudge himself,

the veil was an archway to the realm of death-

used to execute the inconvenient political 'criminals',

who had unjustly suffered in the Ministry's custody.

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Only a few of the oldest unspeakables knew otherwise...

Only a few knew that the arch was more accurately described as a ring,

whose other half had been carefully and cleverly obscured by the chambers dais.

Of those few, only a handful recognized the magical sigils

carved into the arch as chevrons on a gate.

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Of those few, only five understood how the gate worked,

only two maintained a current archive of its coordinates,

and of those few unspeakable...

There was only one unspeakable who knew the secrets of the gates,

knew of the archived coordinates,

and had sufficiently manipulated his way into the Minister's trust

when the Cornelius Fudge reached an all time low...

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There was only one unspeakable,

the first, the eldest,

who was so ancient that his true name

no longer existed in the living memories

of any race existing throughout the galaxy...

Only one, whom the minister trusted to carry out "veil duty"-

and throw the fifteen year-old boy-who-lived

through the veil.

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**Veils**

"Welcome back, SG-1," General George Hammond greeted the bedraggled, bruised, and muddied lead team, who had once again managed to pull out an unexpected and inexplicable victory out of a seemingly doomed situation.

"Back at ya', General." mumbled Jack, who looked more than a shade off color- having been in Ga'ould custody for a couple of days. He was barely on his feet, probably having held himself together, through their almost miraculous escape, by sheer willpower alone. Well, that and the determination not to drag his team down with him if he couldn't make it out.

Just as he was about to order the team to the infirmary, klaxons sounded throughout the gate room.

"General!" an alarmed aide called from the gate room the wormhole's been interrupted. No, it's been captured by another source."

"Shut that iris." He snapped out the order as the no-doubt exhausted team beside him turned to face this new threat, weapons drawn and standing talk and ready when moments before they had appeared on the verge of collapse. He couldn't have been more proud in that moment to stand by this group of men... and woman.

The same could not be said, regrettably, about the gate room guard, who shot, without thinking, at the body that hurtled through the gate. Without thinking... but sadly, not without accuracy.

The body, which landed mostly face down, with just enough of an angle that its back was to them, shuddered once, emitted a weak, rasp cry, then stilled. A moment later, a thin polished stick, followed the figure though the gate, rolled across the dais and down the ramp, and came to a stop at T'ealc's feet as the iris seemed to return to their control and quietly slid into place.

"General, the wormhole disengaged. The gate's back under our control."

"Lock it down, and inform all off-world teams and give them the coordinates for the nearest accessible secured planets, in case they run into an emergency before we can get to the bottom of this."

"Yes, Sir!"

The aide snapped to attention before disappearing from view.

Turning back to the dais, Hammond grimaced as he noted the quickly growing circle of crimson that painted the floor beneath the small frame. Apparently having decided that their uninvited guest was not currently a threat, Jack and T'ealc were carefully turning the body over- revealing, to Hammond's surprise, a very, very young man - nearly a child. As disturbing as the young man's apparent age was, far more troubling was the extreme damage that had been inflicted on what they could see of the young man's body.

His face and hands were so mottled with bruises that it was nearly impossible to tell his native skin color. His lips and eyes showed the effects of several beatings, split in places and swollen shut. One of his shoulders fell at an odd angle, suggesting that it had been intentionally dislocated... as did one of his legs below the knee, and the whimpers that escaped the young man's pressed lips, when they turned him over were likely indicators of further extensive damage that they couldn't see.

Despite the severe damage, however, the young man had somehow clung to consciousness and was even in that moment trying to open his eyes. He must have been able to open them somewhat because his chin moved slightly toward Teal'c, and he rasped, "Shackle-bolt? Sir, Arthur, Molly Weasely... Danger. In danger. Tried to fight, tried, tried, but verita... verita... see-rum... Tried to fight. Sorry."

Whether it was the young man's British accent, or the implications of his words that was more surprising, Hammond couldn't say; nevertheless, Teal'c took the young man's words in stride and gently cupped his hands over the young man's eyes.

"Rest young warrior. You have fought well and are free."

"Rest? Is ... Okay...rest?"

"Yes, young one. You may rest." Teal'c answered solemnly. As he spoke, Janet nodded sharply to the two orderlies silently ordering them to lift the teen before directing them to the emergency operating room that had been set up sometime between Daniel's second and third return from the dead.

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Reading Teal'c's reluctance to leave the viewing room before the young man's surgery was completed, Jack pushed off the medic who was trying to coax him into a wheelchair to move up to the infirmary.

"Shoo, we're staying."

"Sir, the Doctor ordered us to do triage and escort everyone who needs treatment to the infirmary," the soldier protested.

"With your doctors down here, it's kind'a a moot point, don'tchya think?" Jack pointed out sarcastically.

"Sir!" the medic began to protest again when the general raised a forestalling hand.

"Lieutenant, let Doctor Frasier deal with the Colonel. Patch them up the best you can here, and if a medical issue arises that supersedes the young man's needs, we will be nearer to the individuals, who will be in closer proximity to the team of doctors who would be called in."

"Yes, Sir. General Hammond, Sir."

Nodding at Jack's thanks, followed by a quickly muttered curse when the medic begins to clean an abrasion on the colonel's cheek, General Hammond turned back to the viewing window to stare at the drama below. Although he hadn't expected to feel a connection to the young man, who might as easily prove to be a threat as a victim, George could not help but admire the him. The young man looked to be little more than a boy- especially after he'd been cleaned and prepared for surgery, but had appeared to have persevered through treatment that even his teams had rarely faced (one of the few exceptions being Jack, who seemed to draw such situations like a magnet) to carry his warning back, before he allowed himself to rest.

In his decades of experience, there had been few like Jack, Teal'c, Daniel, and - he believed- this young man, for whom duty was not solely the product of one's upbringing, as it had been with Samantha and himself, who only gained the passion of duty once it aligned with their interests. For Jack and those like him, duty was breath, thought, and action, adapted to the rules given them, adjusted when associations and orders changed, but ever-present. When all else failed, that duty seemed to carry them forward even through seemingly unsurvivable tasks, to success... beyond hope, expectation, and reason.

If the boy survived, George vowed to keep an eye on him; for those few, whom he had the honor to have served with, had, in each instance, shown General Hammond the truest measure of the unconquerable human spirit.

"Though young, he carries a warrior's spirit, General." Teal'c agreed, seeming, once again, to sense George's thoughts as he studied the young man, who currently appeared far too vulnerable surrounded by a frantically working team of doctors.

As if summoned by his thought, Janet Frasier broke away from the others and rushed to the intercom.

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"Sam, do you still carry Jolinar's healing device, when you're off planet?" Dr. Frasier's clipped tone and hurried words caused the team to glance at each other in concern.

Janet Frasier, despite the potential benefits available from the device, had been very, very vocal against its use except in the most extreme emergencies. The kind of emergencies that, like it or not, the SG-1 was not unknown for.

"No, it's in my office, our last mission was supposed to have been just a simple trip to Abydos.

"Get it!"

Carter bolted out of the office, pelting down the hall with commendable speed, to reach an office, that George now worried was too far away. Seeming to scream in response to the General's thoughts, the alarms on the heart and breathing monitors blared their alerts as another of the doctors shouted, "He's coding."

As if this weren't enough to his concern, the mountain's klaxons came to life again, and the aide that he'd left hunting down the source of the wormhole that interrupted their own, skidding to a halt.


	2. Chapter 2

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"Though young, he carries a warrior's spirit, General."

Teal'c agreed, seeming, once again, to sense George's thoughts

as he studied the young man, who currently appeared far too vulnerable

surrounded by a frantically working team of doctors.

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Veils, 2

Flashing blue strobe lights, blaring klaxons, and guards descending in mass weapons drawn gave the gate room an air of chaos, despite the serenity of the figure who stood backlit by the stargate as though the entire gate room was nothing more than the setting for an ad campaign promising a path to spiritual enlightenment for all those who followed her tree-hugger philosophy - oh and gave up everything they owned to a charitable trust, conveniently managed by her.

Wincing as her knowing, amused smile turned on him, Jack O'Neil, despite the ache in his probably cracked ribs, stood that little bit straighter that he stood at inspection.

Despite Danny's chidings for patience and looking at issues from their perspective, it still irked Jack that the Nox considered them almost equivalent to children - and unruly children at that. Perhaps absurdly, their detached tolerance and lack of acknowledgment spurred him to show off - even though he knew, deep down, that posturing would likely have little effect on their opinions, if not reducing their estimation even further.

"Jack O'Neil, greetings." Lya turned to him with an expectant smile.

"Lya, welcome. Allow me to introduce General George Hammond, our leader."

"Greetings, General Hammond. One who has come before sent me to heal the Tauri child, who was given to you."

"While your assistance is appreciated Miss Lya. .."

"Lya, General Hammond, among the Nox, we do not require titles; we are who we are named."

"All that aside, Lya, while we do appreciate your assistance and my men have told me of your people's miraculous ability, I must ask who is this person? What race? How was he able to interrupt our star gate? And how did he come by this child?"

"If I may see to the child, I will - afterward- tell you as I may."

Recognizing the superficial acknowledgment that his words implied, Jack suppressed his dissatisfied snort, knowing that, more likely than not, it would only earn him a hale of lectures: diplomacy from General Hammond, maturity from Daniel, patience from Sam, self-control from Teal'c, and Janet would probably jump in to with some variation of keeping his mouth shut and not interfering with the treatment of her patient. There was no denying that the kid needed help, either, not when Janet was considering the use of goa'uld technology.

"I'll show you where they are," he answered, ignoring the General's raised eyebrow and Daniel's expression of wide-eyed disbelief.

"I would be pleased for your escort, Jack O'Neal, but it is not necessary; the Tauri child's presence can be felt. He is in the area less than a tree's shade from us. Please let us join him; he suffers greatly."

"This way." Jack took the lead when General Hammond signaled that he intended to check in with the Gate control room to speak with the aide that had been waving as subtly as possible to the general, which in the aide's case, seemed to be not at all, as even Lya smiled tolerantly at the agitated serviceman.

"I'm surprised that Anteaus sent you instead of coming himself." Jack commented lightly as they left the gaterooom.

"He wished to, but disagreed with the one who came before, and wished to bring to bring the child to our home where he might be protected, given the childhood that was stolen from him, and raised in our ways. The one who came before reminded Anteaus that while he may be an elder among the Nox, he is … we are very young, by comparison, and must trust his judgment." Lya's tone of voice as she made the comment hinted to Jack that perhaps, he wasn't the only one whom Anteaus's condescending tone had pricked – perhaps even a tree-hugging, peace loving Nox could be rankled by being treated like a child. The thought made him smirk.

"I don't suppose that he took that comment very well."

"No," Lya's eyes flickered mischievously, "I believe that you would say that he is … pouting? Is that the right word?"

"Probably," Jack agreed with a little satisfaction. At least, he hoped that Anteaus was sulking; the thought of it took a little of the sting out of their Nox's detachment. Then, her words sunk in… Really sunk in.

"Wait, this one who came before, whose race is so much older than the Nox, who is he? How did he know about the kid, if he's from earth, I mean Tauri?"

"He is one of the ones who came before. His name is unspeakable. I will tell you as I may, Jack O'Neal, after the child's pain is relieved."

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"Unspeakable?"

Behind Jack, Danny's soft whisper of concern turned into one of his stream of consciousness – and yes, Jack did actually know the phrase meant- linguistic analytical sessions… Thankfully it was early into the session, so it was fairly safe to tune Danny out without missing anything important as he watched Lya chanting over the operating table.

"Is it just me Teal'c or is this taking longer than they actually took to bring us back to life?"

"It is not –just- you, O'Neal. I do not believe that Lya is performing the same ritual."

"What? What do you mean? She's not hurting him, is she?"

Damn it. Hadn't the kid been hurt enough? Even having no idea what he'd been through, that much was clear.

"No. I do not believe so, but she is not working to the same extent that Anteaus and the other elders achieved, nor do I believe that she is holding her hands in the same position as they."

"Perhaps, she's has to make adjustments to the ritual because she's doing it alone and because she's younger than the others." Sam interjected.

"Maybe," Jack agreed, tightly. There was just too much they didn't know about the Nox and their motives and how they knew about the kid in the first place and about the kid if he was really from Earth. For all they knew, the kid could have been kidnapped and kept as one of the Nox's test subjects, "but keep an eye on her anyway. Sam, you better be ready to use Jolinar's gizmo if the kid's condition goes downhill."

"Yes, Sir." Sam snapped out a little sharply, probably because he'd called the snake's healing device a gizmo, but as long as she was ready, it wouldn't matter what he called it- and they both knew it.

"Uhmm, Jack, we – we may have – a bit of a problem…" Daniel piped in, apparently having come to an out of the blue, and rarely ever good, conclusion through his usual, if somewhat convoluted, manner of explaining things to himself that somehow seemed to work far more often than Jack would have ever given it credit for.

Why does he always wait for me to ask him for it? Jack groaned to himself mentally before giving in: "Okay, Daniel, what other problem do we have … than an unknown alien, who's somehow able to take complete control over the stargate and a kid, from who knows where, whose been put through a meat grinder and spit out on our front doorstep?"

"Errr… Well, in ancient Egypt, when one of the Pharaohs… or even the Gods themselves, whom we now know to be Goa'uld … committed an act that they considered unforgivable, the priests would issue a fatwa, a religious edict, to destroy all images, statues, and recordings of the offender's actions to remove even the entity's name from living memory…. Making his or her name 'unspeakable'."

Four letter words were already running rampant, and loudly, through Jack's thoughts, but he still had to ask, "So you're saying we might be dealing with someone or something that freaked out even the Goa'uld?"

"Possibly?"

See, what was the purpose of asking, when we already knew the answer?

"Beee-aut-tiful." Jack groaned as his energy began to give out, and he found himself forced to take a seat.


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait, where are you going? You haven't finished, yet!" Dr. Janet Frasier grabbed for the alien's arm as the girl dropped her hands and began to pull away. Even knowing what Col. O'Neil and his sg1 team had claimed the young woman's race could do, Janet had been skeptical about letting the young woman treat her patient.

Then Lya stepped in, just as the boy's heart started to fail, prayed or chanted or did her race's version of voodoo... calmed the child's heart, then proceeded to restore the his bruised and ruptured organs... then simply stopped, brushed her fingers across his forehead, and turned away.

"I have healed what I must: he will live."

"You don't just stop treating a patient at the point of survival!" Janet protested, "you keep going until you have made the patient as whole as possible."

When Lya turned back to face her, Janet felt a sudden empathy with Jack- remembering his irritated grumbling when he had returned from his first meeting with the Nox. The young woman's smile was utterly placid and utterly tolerant, and Janet was completely certain that she was going to be refused in a way that she wouldn't be able to argue with, and that fact UTTERLY and COMPLETELY infuriated her.

"Healer," Lya's voice was gentle and amused, as though she had known Janet's every thought, "If the person you wished to heal had broken the smallest of the fingers upon his hand but also had a tear in the organ that moves his blood, which would you treat first?"

"His heart first, of course, but you've already done that... There's no..."

"Yes, his heart, it has been healed as was needed so that you may treat the greater wound to that of his being- the wound to his ... To the essence of his life- that which i believe you call Suu'o'el."

"His soul?"

"Yes, there are wounds to his soul, compared to which the measure of the injuries of his body are no greater than the difference to his injury of the heart as a cut to the littlest of his fingers. The wounds of the soul must be healed first or the whole will not thrive."

"You misunderstand, I'm not trained to patch together minds, I work on the physical and when he's healed, we can send him to someone who can counsel him."

The look that Lya gave her was almost pitying, before the alien had simply stepped away.

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Teal'c folded his hands, resting them gently on the desk as he surveyed his companions with mild humor. He did not believe they yet recognized that they had claimed the young warrior- just as they had claimed Teal'c, himself, but a season before.

For the observant, the evidence of their claim was readily apparent:

O'Neil was yet refusing medical treatment- harassing and intimidating the medical staffman who was attempting to cajole him into treatment despite General Hammond's suggestion to let their head of staff address the matter.

Daniel Jackson had, quite hurriedly, retrieved the multiple notebooks and research 'planners' that he reserved for off-world research proposals, and was in the task of quickly summarizing his current knowledge of the situation into each of the appropriate binders while shooting intermittent anticipatory glances toward the operating 'theater' window.

Samantha Carter, standing with the phone propped between her shoulder and her ear as navigated through what appeared to be five separate conversations, was also watching the window with an intense expression as she repeatedly removed and replaced Jolinar's healing device on her hand.

Teal'c would not be inclined to admit that he nearly prided himself with his lack of visible markers, but neither was he deceiving himself that his own tentative plans for the young warrior's mental and physical defense training were not as telling as the other's more noticeable responses. His rushing to his feet as the Nox, Lya left the treatment room, with the Doctor Janet Frasier grabbing after her, may have, perhaps been telling as well, but he did not believe that it would have been particularly noticeable amidst the rapid shifts of the other SG-1 members.

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"Colonel O'Neill," Lya began, smiling into his frown, "Please sit down. It is easy to see that your injuries are causing you pain, and the explanation that you have asked for does not promise to be swift."

"Why do I think that I'm not going to like what you have to say?" He grumbled, but sat down as asked, ignoring Teal'c's raised eyebrow.

"I believe that answer is to be found in your nature, Colonel O'Neill." Lya responded to the rhetorical question with a light smile toward the medical staffman who snorted at her response.

"Yeah, whatever. You're about to explain how the kid got here?"

"No, what explanation is needed? The child was sent to you through your gate to the stars. I will explain why he was sent to you."

"Wait a minute here, you can't just say that it's not up for discussion." O'Neill argued, clearly not recognizing that there was little he could do to force the point; before he could continue, Samantha Carter picked up the discussion, perhaps hoping to prevent O'Neill from pulling the discussion into other realms.

"We do have reason to be concerned, Lya. The wormhole completely commandeered the stargate, and would not release it. What would have happened if the person on the other side had been hostile to us? Certainly, you can see that we should be concerned. "

"No. You have known, before this, that there are technologies greater than yours. That there are races other than yours. That there were ones who came before you, just as there were ones who came before the people of my planet. You are in no greater danger for the reminder of it, now, than you were before the young child came through." Lya insisted gently.

"Miss, could you- at least- let us know where the wormhole originated from?" General Hammond asked patiently.

Lya cocked her head as she studied him then turned and studied each of the others curiously for almost a minute before turning to the next.

"You do not recognize the child's origin point? It was not unexpected that you would not know of the one who came before, but … the child. You do not recognize your own children? You do not connect to them as a being of your body? I find it unimaginable that you tauri are so…. So disconnected. No wonder you did not understand our actions when you visited our planet?" Lya's expression was deeply troubled as her gaze flickered between them.

"The one who came before… you mentioned him…. Uhm … before." Daniel Jackson interrupted, jumping into the conversation. Who is he? What race is he from? Before what? "

"Danny! One question at a time, and let's focus on the ones already asked. Kay?" O'Neill ordered sharply. "Were did the wormhole start from, Lya?"

"From the one who came before. "

"Yeah, we got that. Care to be a bit more informative?"

Just as the Nox was parting her lips to speak, her previous comments fell into place for Teal'c.

"I believe, O'Neill that the wormhole originated from earth, as did the young warrior, " he commented, not breaking eye contact with her, so that he did not miss her smile of agreement.

"Yes, the child is of the Tauri."

"Does that mean this one who came before is on Earth?" Daniel persisted.

"Yes."

Teal'c nodded to O'Neill when he saw the other man come to the realization that Daniel Jackson's questions appeared to be gaining more information than his own and sit back down.

"How long has he been on Earth? Why do you call him the one who came before? Before what?"

"Daniel, one question at a time," Samantha Jackson reminded in a soft whisper.

"Oh. Sorry, Lya. Just answer the first one first, please. When did he come to earth?"

Lya shook her head in amusement as she watched his questions almost bubbling from his tongue.

"From the eyes that you look through, Daniel, he has always been here. His name is unspeakable because it no longer lives in the memories of our peoples."

The grim expression that came over Daniel Jackson's face was missed by no one, but Teal'c was first to ask, "Daniel Jackson. Her words trouble you?"

"Sort of. Dating back to the predynastic periods of Ancient Egypt, even as far back as the first semi-permanent structures in the Wadi Halfa region there is evidence of the ritualized destruction of the names of criminals, who had offended the populace so greatly that part of their punishment was to remove all evidence of their existence so that they would not be remembered or spoken of – their names were made unspeakable."

"Yes." Lya answered softly sensing his dread. "The ones who came before have done much to withdraw from the memories of your race until it is time for you to know them, but not for the reasons, which I believe you fear. There were times that your race looked upon the ancients, and the ones who came before with anger… and jealousy. Just as a child does when a parent will not permit him the freedoms the child desires. Many of your race tried to force the ones who came before to give them weapons and other technologies that they were not ready for, and so it was decided that they would withdraw from your awareness of them. But not from you. You were not left as a child without parents on the steppes of the white slopes."

"So they are still here?"

"We believe so"

"What? You don't know?" O'Neill pressed.

"Only that one of those who came before is or was on Tauri for he sent the child to you. "

"Great! Doesn't sound like you're on the best of relations with them if you can only guess that one's been hanging around in this neck of the woods."

"Jack!" Daniel Jackson interrupted, glancing first to the General then Samantha Carter before shooting Teal'c a look that was easily read as a quest for assistance.

"Why was the young warrior sent to SG-1?" Teal'c offered his support in a mild question that could easily redirect the matter… or so he thought.

"He did not tell us; he told us only that we may not guide child."

"What? Then how did you expect to explain?" This time it was General Hammond, who appeared ready to lose his patience.

"Must Tauri parents experience every pain and pleasure to explain it to their children? Or may they not share their experience? It is thus with us. We were sent to you because we have experienced in some measure the child's suffering and can explain his presence to you- better perhaps than the Asgard, or the ancients, or the furling."

"Then do, please, explain. " The General commented in slight exasperation.

"In each race - there is the potential for development in one of five directions – parasitisis, symbiosis, technosis, ascensus, and alchemis – each of the four races, who have come before you have contained these potentials for development. The gould do not create anything of their own but exist on the production and technologies of others. The furling host lives within themselves that they were not born with, and both thrive from the sharing. The asgard create physical means outside of themselves to manipulate the energies that we, Nox mould from within. Like us, at one time, your race is swiftly approaching the point at which it will make the choice of its development – and you who have walked the stars will guide the choice of your race.

Teal'c – like the tokra, you carry both the seeds of the furling and the go'auld – symbiosis and parasitisis. Major Carter – you like the Asgaard bear the evolution of technosis. O'Neil, you are perhaps more Nox than you realize, young alchemis. Daniel, you carry weighty burden of acensis, and the ancients. "

She paused giving them time to consider her words and draw their own conclusions before she continued.

"The child was sent to you so that you may guide him in the decision, for he carries the seeds of each and what is nurtured within him will grow - what is starved will die."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, that was helpful!" Jack groused sarcastically.

Why was it that whenever aliens want to "impart wisdom", they go all Yoda on you speaking in vague allusions like some freakin' jedi-knight mixed with a high mountain mystic in Tibet.

Damn it, he'd never thought that he'd appreciate anything about the go'auld, but at least they were straight forward: it was either "kneel or die", "tell us what you know or die," or "you've screwed with our plans- Die!"

No words that sounded like English but weren't. No phrases that sounded like they made sense but didn't… Just simple, straight-forward, to-the-point, do what I say or suffer the consequences statements. No need for interpretation required and no misunderstandings. It was something he could respect... almost... not that he'd ever tell a snake that.

"Well, maybe it was," Danny piped in wearing his "oh-goodie-a-puzzle" expression.

"Gee, how do you figure?"

"Well, we can make a number of extrapolations from what she told us: for instance, noting how she included Teal'c in her description- tells us that the jaffa, abydonians, and other descendants of the Go'auld's Earth born slaves are viewed as a single race in their perspective; which could have numerous serious repercussions on our diplomatic ventures. Then, the labels she used for the different forms of evolution or development... They seem to almost conform to Latinate roots and prefixes. If I'm interpreting them correctly, I may have a working theorem regarding the essential differences between the evolutionary paths of the races she named..."

Tuning out as Danny went into full nerd mode, Jack sighed and dropped his head back against the seat's headrest with a near silent groan. Although he wasn't happy admitting it, even to himself, the snakes had done a pretty good job of working him over this time, and now that his adrenalin was dropping, he was really beginning to feel it. Growling to himself as he saw Janet's eagle eye fall on him, Jack tried to ignore her sharpening gaze. He might as well have waved a white flag right in her face... and he was pretty sure they both knew it.

Deciding to save what face he could, when Danny paused to take a breath, Jack drawled, "Kay then, you just keep on extrapolatin', Danny, till you come up with what we need to do next while Janet and I check on the kid. We'll confab again in the morning?"

His last question had been directed at the general, who nodded understandingly, and agreed.

"A full debriefing eleven hundred hours, and don't forget: I will want your reports of the events that occurred on pxx4-735. I am quite interested in discovering how delivering a treaty to our new allies resulted in Jack's incarceration on a go'auld mother ship."

The generals tone held a mildly sardonic note, but Jack also heard the underlying frustration and concern, so refrained from the flippant "yah sure, you betcha," that he'd been about to respond with.

"Yes, Sir."

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A barely breathed whisper ... disturbed Harry's sedated rest. Familiar with the feeling from his previous stays in the Hogwarts infirmary, he foggily searched his memory for the injury that had landed him there again.

"Potter, I truly regret this," the echo of a familiar voice flickered through his memory - too swift for him to latch onto in his disorientation.

A half-remembered blow jerked his body as the familiar feeling of striking a wall surfaced before submerging beneath a whisper of a shudderingly familiar voice.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter, I had hoped that you could see the political benefits of cooperation. Sadly, I suppose our preferences must give way to other persuasions. Radcliffe, do bring Lucius in."

"Sir?"

"Weaselby, do follow simple instructions when they are given..." Minister Fudge's impatient tones stirred a growing sense of anxiety even as it faded beneath an exultant cry, "Good one, James!" and a high-pitched peal of discordant laughter and a sing-song'ed taunt, "I kill-ed Sir-ius Black!"

"Noooo!" He moaned arching and trying to throw himself at the misty image of his godfather – falling away through the veil. "Noooooooooo, Sirius, noooooo."

Harry settled, gasping, as his godfather's image was replaced by a strange outward splash of the veil's mists, as though it had been laying on the ground and a boulder had dropped through the half circle of mist causing a splashback. Hands seemed to grip him gently, pushing him toward the veil, as a chin lowered to his ear and whispered, "Don't be afraid, young man. I am sending you to people who will protect you."

The feeling of breath against his ear and hands gripping his arms and being pushed transmuted into another memory before he could grasp the meaning of the man's promise.

"Potter," the familiar voice repeated, becoming Lucius Malfoy's as it did, but in a solemn haunted tone that made it almost unrecognizable from his normal disdainful note as he continued, " I truly regret this."

The ghost of chill fingers clutching his forearms, from behind him, made Harry gasp and pull trying to escape the memory of their grip even as the wizard bent over him, whispering fervently, "I take no pleasure in this."

He felt the sweep of Lucius's mane across his shoulders as the insistent whispers continued, "No child should be sullied, in this manner. Not even you,"

The ghostly grip left his arms as he felt the no-longer existent bindings securing his wrists in place.

"But I was given the choice between you and Draco…"

Phantom fingertips stroked down his spine as the whispered words continued.

"I beg your forgiveness for the choice I have made."

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As he writhed and attempted to pull away from the memory and the act that he had been unable to escape, the heavy blanket of sedation fell away from his mind and body, allowing him to jerk awake in bed with a scream of pain as his dislocated shoulder struck a bar on … a hospital bed?

Panting in panic, he jerked his head back and forth attempting to identify with his faulty vision just where he was. It didn't look like the Ministry holding cell, or even the room at St. Mungo's that they'd apparated him into a couple of times when one of the Minister's 'personal guards' had gotten a little enthusiastic in his job. He wasn't tied down with sticking charms, straps, and chains as he had been in both places. A rush of white robed figures moving toward him and their hands –cold frigid hands rushing towards him to force him into… the bed or the restraints that they must have forgotten to put on him - triggered an overwhelming urgency to escape so fierce that he disregarded the multiple reports of terrible pain that every move caused him and pushed himself backward away from them and off the bed. The agony that screamed through him when he landed caused him to nearly black out before he could free his good… well better leg from the sheets and push himself away from them and back against the wall. Realizing he was trapped, he kicked something that he couldn't quite identify into their way with a hard won - if brief - gasp of satisfaction as someone tripped over what seemed to be a metal cart that upended and spilled its contents in their path.

Despite himself, a soft keen broke from his throat, singing his terror as surely as Fawkes sang her joy or empathy. He couldn't let himself get caught, not again, not again… As if in answer to a prayer a light swung across the that the contents, which had spilled from the cart, and he saw that they'd contained something sharp and glinting… like razors. Darting forward, Harry cried out in relief as his hand closed around a piece of shining metal, and it was a razor. Scuttling back, he pushed himself as deeply into a crevice between the bed, the wall, and another piece of what seemed to be solid, possibly, unmovable equipment as he could – swinging the razor in front of him as they continued to approach..

"Get an MP!" a woman ordered sharply as an unfamiliar man's voice broke out cursing. "We'll have to strap him down, and knock him out again."

Harry's heartrate, already pounding in his ears, sky-rocketed at her announcement. He couldn't let them tie him down again. He couldn't let them… Not again. He'd … He'd rather… He'd die first. Even as he came to the conclusion that he hadn't allowed himself to consider since being freed from the Dark Lord's possession. His hands shook as he ordered… begged them to stay away, swinging the razor in a wide sweep. He wasn't under any delusion that he would get out of there; someone would remember their wand soon, and he'd be stupefied, or worse. He just had to … had to … to work up his nerve… to do what he needed to… so that they wouldn't, but it was hard. He had held on so hard, fought so hard to hold on until someone from the order rescued him, certain that someone would come… until he'd lost his fight against the veritaserum and betrayed everyone. He'd betrayed everyone.

Harry's shaking hand drew the razor closer, dropping to the arm hanging limply from his dislocated shoulder and the wrist cradled in his lap. It was a coward's act, he knew, but Fudge had set out to destroy 'Dumbledore's Army', and he had told them everything he knew about the order of the phoenix and worse about the Weasleys, Bones and Longbottoms, who Fudge had been particularly focused on. He'd betrayed everyone!

They wouldn't have had any warning, would they have? Had they even known that he'd been picked up from the Dursleys? Had they known before Fudge's storm-troopers showed up? Had they been taken, too?

His hand shook as he fought his guilt and desperation to escape the torments that he knew they would have in store for him - reminding himself of the prophecy, his destiny, and the friends who might have survived his betrayal - until a loud shout startled him out of his despondent battle.

"Get back! Get away from him, now! Go!"

"But, Colonel…"

Colonel? Aurors weren't called Colonels.

"Back! Get away from him. Now! Let me talk to him."

The man's voice was in a strange accent; he almost sounded like one of the 'yank's' that they had in the old world war 2 movies that his uncle Vernon liked, except that it sounded less country-ish than he would have expected. Now that he could hear their voices clearer, the others' didn't sound British, either.

Where was he?

"I am sending you to people who will protect you." The promise echoed in his in his troubled thoughts.

"I am sending you to people who will protect you"… and then a push. He'd been pushed through the veil after the splash. Gently, but he could remember falling through the cool mists for what felt like an eternity before an explosion of pain in his side and … Shacklebolt telling him he could rest.

"Hey Kiddo. "

The man's voice had softened and seemed to come from right in front of him, "You're safe, now. No one's going to hurt you, so why don't you put that down? Okay? How about it?"

Trying to force his bruise-swollen eyes open as a painfully wide as he could to see the man, Harry stuttered, "W-wh-ere are we?"

Had he really been rescued? Maybe the headmaster had someone on the inside, who'd sent him to the yanks where he'd be safe.

When the man hesitated, Harry's anxiety sky-rocketed again, and he lifted the razor he'd already been lowering. If he'd been rescued, why was the man they were calling Colonel hesitating?

"Where? Are? We?" he demanded in as firm of a voice as he could, even as his hands shook violently.

"Hey, take it easy. I don't know how to explain it to you kid, not really knowing where you came from, at least not for sure, but you're in Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado."

"Co-lo-ra-do?" Harry thought he might have heard the name once somewhere, but he had no idea where it was, except, "Is – is – is that in the United States?"

"Yeah, that's right. That's where we are."

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Jack released a relieved sigh as the kid dropped the razor and sat back gasping for breath.

At the sound of boots skidding around the corner and sliding into the room, he turned and glared at the guards the nurses had called. Thankfully, enough of them were familiar with him that they didn't just blunder in anyways, and panic the kid again.

Geez… he'd have to have a talk with the Doc about the idiots she was hiring. You'd think they'd had enough roughed up soldiers come through the gate, even without the kind of crap this kid had obviously been through, to know that you had to tread carefully.

"Mind if I sit down? I've had kind of a rough day, too." He asked, not trying terribly hard to cover the pain in his own voice, figuring that it wouldn't hurt the kid to know he wasn't the only one who knew what it was like to be on the wrong side of someone's fists. Kneeling wasn't really helping his ribs either, and he kind of wanted the kid to know ahead of time in case he had to get up.

When the kid squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look, Jack thought they might have widened in surprise when the boy's gaze reached his face, and he nodded quickly, offering a weak, "sorry."

"S'okay." Jack responded with rueful smile, "sometimes coming where you didn't expect to be can be a little rough."

"Yeah." The kid acknowledged, gulping down – Jack was sure to keep from crying in relief – an urge he understood all too well, having been through it more than a handful of times himself.

"Hey, I'm Jack O'Neill, by the way."

"Harry… I'm Harry Potter." The kid almost said it like it meant something unpleasant but seemed to relax when Jack nodded and offered his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. What about I give you a hand up and help you into bed? I bet pain meds are probably lookin' pretty good right, now."

The hesitated for the briefest second before he held out the hand he'd been holding the razor blade with, and murmured almost shyly, "Thank you, Sir."

"It's Jack."

Nodding, the kid let Jack pull him up and barely cringed when Jack put his arm around his waist and helped him hobble back over to the bed. Ignoring the added pull on his ribs from the kid's weight, Jack lifted Harry when the kid couldn't pull himself into the bed, and sat on the side of the bed while the nurses got everything straightened back up.

"We'll get someone in to check out your eyes," he commented to distract the kid as the nurse hooked him up to an IV. "I remembering watching Daniel grope around after losing his glasses in a firefight, and know how tough it can be to relax when you can't see what's goin' on." The truth was that judging by the massive facial bruising the kid was carrying, he was probably damn lucky not to have a detached retina, fractured eye-socket, or some other blinding injury, but definitely didn't need to be reminded of that, and long experience with a bruised and beaten Danny had taught him that it went much easier if he just blamed it on the glasses. 

"Okay." Harry answered, sounding pretty much as emotionally wrecked as you'd expect for a kid who'd just had come out of a hell-hole. Harry didn't say too much as Jack chattered on, until after the kid's had eyes closed and he started rise. When he did, the kid's hand caught the edge of his sleeve, and and despite the bruising, swelling, and god-awful-worst case of red-eye that Jack had ever seen - terrified, green eyes flashed open as wide as they could manage, staring at him with a plea that kid couldn't ask, and when it came down to it, didn't need to: Jack had been there before.

"Hey, tellya what. Why don't I just hang here for a little while until the Doc's ready to check me out?"

Harry's chin dipped in something that might have been an exhausted nod and he slowly, reluctantly let his eyes close again - a murmur "thanks, Jack" dying on his lips when he finally drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dr. Fraser?"

The softer fog that had encompassed Harry after the Colonel, Jack... he had said his name was Jack, after Jack had ordered the healers to give him something for the pain, healers who must have been muggles because they'd given him 'normal' pain 'meds' - actual tablets and a needle in his arm, which they'd never used in the room at St. Mungos - the soft fog that had fallen over him then, after that, lifted slowly at the sound of an older man's softly voiced question, but Harry kept his eyes closed hoping that no one would noticed his return to conscious. He needed time to think. Time to figure things out, get his mind straight.

"General Hammond?" The healer... no the older man had called her a Doctor. Doctors were muggles.

" I understand that there was a request for a security presence?" His tone, while seeming curious held a slightly chastising note that, Harry didn't know how to interpret.

"Yes, during the debriefing, the on-duty nurse... over reacted slightly. She was not aware of Mr. Potter's circumstances, and had not anticipated his panic attack."

"Mr. Potter? Has he..."

"No, not to me. I was delayed - scanning the post surgical reports - so Jack reached him first and helped him calm down and got him back into bed. As far as I know, they only exchanged names"

"Well, that's more than we knew an hour ago. How are they doing? How's Jack?"

"Two broken ribs, a femoral stress fracture, extensive soft tissue damage, multisystem trauma... Seriously, General, I don't want to have to formally request that he be confined to base or pulled from SG1, but he needs serious recovery time, and I will do whatever it takes to get it through that …"

"Understood, Doctor." The man's voice... or rather the general's voice cut her off, his tone sounding gruffly amused. "There's no reason to worry; however, as I am reassigning the team to base for the interim to investigate this latest gate... breech. If there is a developing rapport, I see no reason not to assign Jack the task of... well, a task that will keep him under your close supervision. Speaking of which, our guest's injuries?"

Harry had been more than a little startled to hear the list of the colonel's injuries , and then a little confused by the rest of the sentence, so that he wasn't completely tracking their conversation until the general had said "Our guest", and Harry realized that they were referring to him.

"The full spectrum." The doctor's voice was suddenly flat and controlled the way that Snape's used to get just before a serious blow off. Harry suspected that she wasn't actually angry with him, but if she was like Madam Pomfrey, who'd get mad at him for taking 'foolish, unnecessary risks," maybe she was, and he couldn't quite figure out what she meant by the 'full spectrum'?

The general's response was just as confusing, a long harsh exhale of breath before he answered, "I see."

There was a long quiet pause following this, then in an entirely different tone, the general spoke again, "Well, Son, think you're up to helping us keep Jack on a short leash, long enough for him to recover?"

The absence of anyone else's response was a blatant red flag to Harry that his ruse had been discovered, but still he hesitated to open his eyes; he really wasn't quite ready to face anyone just yet, much less a general. Harry had never learned much about the muggle government or military, but he'd learned enough to know that general's were about the highest rank there was. The Colonel hadn't seemed so intimidating at the time, but that could have been because Harry had been scared pissless at the thought of being returned to the ministry - so much so that any single person, military or not - short of Voldemort - wouldn't have been enough to even phase him at the time. If he'd been offered a choice between going with Bellatrix Lestrange, without his wand or anyother way to defend himself, or going back to the ministry - he wouldn't even have to think twice; he'd go with Bellatrix. He knew she wouldn't be any less cruel to him, but somehow the thought of being tortured to death or insanity by a madwoman was somehow very much less wrong than the same being done to him by normal everyday ministry bureaucrats, who were just doing their jobs, and thought that what they were doing was making the magical community a better, safer place to be.

This was a different matter entirely, though. The thought of facing a general, a Muggle general, from another country, with no idea of whether or not he could say anything, much less what he could say - especially now! The thought was enough to parch his mouth and bind his ribs as if he'd had an incarcerous charm double strength just on his ribs.

"Son," The general's tone sounded gently coaxing the second time he addressed Harry, "I've sat through enough Capitol Hill budget sub-committee meetings to know whether someone's dozing - on sight."

Not willing to risk angering the general further, Harry cracked his eyes open slightly, wincing as his swollen eyelids protested the effort.

"Yes, Sir, " he croaked softly, then tried to curl a little to his side so he could shift up. He remembered how painful it had been to move before so he favored every injured limb he coud, but he couldn't not make the effort.

"Hold it!" the doctor chastised sharply, "You lay right back down there! Don't you dare try to get back up. I swear if I have two of you that I have to strap down to keep …"

"Dr. Fraser!" Thankfully, the general overrode the doctor's complaint, shooting a quick reassuring smile at Harry as he continued, "At ease soldier. Doctor, I can take it from here."

Harry knew she hadn't meant it. She was a lot like Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pomfrey had threatened to stick Harry to his infirmary bed more than once. It was just... just … no, he wasn't going to think about that. That hadn't been what the doctor had meant. It wasn't, or they would have, wouldn't they - to keep him from running? Especially after he'd grabbed the razors, but they hadn't.

"But, what if that had been because of Jack?" he wondered to himself.

The dark haired doctor flushed slightly, looking uncomfortable as she nodded and slipped away behind him, although, she pausing to 'suggest' that the general needed to get to his "briefing" shortly.

"Duly noted, Doctor." The man answered dismissively, before gesturing to a chair.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked Harry.

"No, Sir." Harry answered, slightly mystified. Who was he to tell the man what he couldn't do? Without thinking, Harry started to push himself up again, but the general waved him back. "Easy, Son, you don't want to get me in trouble with the good doctor, do you?"

"No - -" Harry tried to answer again by his voice came out in a dry almost croak.

"Here you go, Son." The older man stood a bit more quickly than Harry expected, and to his embarrassment, Harry startled slightly pressing back into the pillows behind him. After a second, a white styro cup was held out just in front of his face, and the general coaxed softly, "Take a sip. It will help ease your throat."

It was awkward, with one arm bound up in a splint and his other half-trapped by the half turn he'd made to look at them, but after a second, he managed to wiggle his hand out and guide the cup to his lips.

"There you go... slow. That's it. Better?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. I assume you heard what we were discussing a few minutes ago?"

Harry nodded, not certain whether he wanted to admit, out-loud, that he had been eavesdropping.

"So, do you think that you can help us?"

Harry stared back warily. The general didn't look like the same type of 'leader' as Minister Fudge, but Harry still found it difficult to trust him.

The were both a little stout and balding and didn't look as if they were quite as tall as the staff around them, but aside from having roundish faces, that's where their similarities seemed to end - at least superficially. The general didn't seem to need Fudge's pompous 'bowler hat and all business' business suit to suggest that he was serious or held authority. He just looked it. Although he was dressed in a uniform, the general's outfit didn't make the man seem as officious as Harry was pretty certain he could look. Other than a couple of gold looking pin's above his left pocket, a thin blue name badge over the other pocket, and cloth strips with two small metal stars on each shoulder, there wasn't much of anything to even suggest the man's rank or anything. He wasn't wearing a tie, fancy cap, or even long sleeves. He didn't even look as dressed up as Harry's uncle looked when he went to work, and Vernon Dursley was just a middle manager at a drill factory. There was just something - in his face maybe, in the general's expression- that just said he had a lot of responsibilities and made a lot of serious decisions. Fudge didn't have that, and Harry's uncle didn't have that , in fact, there was nothing at all in his bearing or dress to make Harry think the general was anything like Fudge, but …

Fudge had asked for his cooperation, too, and at first, he'd even been almost nice about it.

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General Hammond watched the child quietly, giving him time to feel his way through whatever negative implications the questions must have for him. Sadly familiar with the questioning techniques that often accompanied torture and interrogations, Hammond was all too aware that any question - any question, at all, could be triggering... any question whatsoever - as he had once discovered, when a young, though not so young as Mr. Potter, former POW returning from internment in Serbia, who had promptly and intentionally overdosed after being asked what his favorite song was- even though they had all believed that the young soldier had adjusted and recovered from his ordeal .

From that time on, Hammond had exercised extreme caution when he had even the slightest reason to suspect an interrogation - much less the the absolute certainty of it that marked and perhaps scarred the child's body, manner, and -if Lya's assertion was true - the child's very soul. Even without Lya's claim of the child's importance, Hammond would have done everything within his ability to protect the young man... even from his own questions, which as far as he was concerned would wait as long as necessary until the child could answer them without the bright glassy glimmer of fear that him from meeting the General's eyes.

Finally, Potter answered, softly: "I don't know... I don't know what you're asking for."

It was a question as much as a statement, and Hammond answered it as gently as he could, "It seems that both you and Jack need some time to rest and recover your health. Jack is, well truth be told, a bit mule headed about staying in bed when the doctor orders, so I was asking, if, while you're both here, if you would mind just keeping him company, so he doesn't get so restless and drive her insane trying to keep him in bed."

"I... Er... I suppose I could. I can try, but I ... I don't ...I doubt we have … anything in common. I mean he's an adult and a colonel and from the states and..." Potter flushed slightly, apparently seeming to recognize that he'd been rambling, and trailed off.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I doubt even Colonel O'Neill would argue this, but he's not always quite as mature as you might think, and as far as I can see, his being a colonel and from a different country gives you more to discuss, not less."

"Er. I guess." Potter answered, unconvinced and dropping his chin a bit to hide behind his bangs.

"Don't worry, Kid." They were interrupted by Jack O'Neill, gray-faced and grim as he limped around the screen separating Potter from the rest of the infirmary. "After this meeting, I'll be on my best behavior. I'll even see if I can grab a deck of cards so we can teach each other the card games we know. That should suit the Doc'. Won't be any trouble at all."

"Okay, Sir." Potter answered, clearly relaxing in Colonel O'Neill's presence.

"It's Jack, remember?" Jack limped a little forward leaning more heavily on a crutch tucked under his left arm as he gestured to Hammond with a hand holding several folders, "He's Sir."

"Okay, Jack." Potter answered with a weary forced smile, and sighed slightly as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position.

"Has Dr. Fraser cleared you for the briefing, Colonel?" Hammond asked, drawing his clearly uncomfortable attention of the young man, though he watched him in his peripheral vision.

"Not only that, she gave me some files to take to the briefing for her." Jack's grin was only superficial and hid a much deeper well of anger and frustration that Hammond was certain he would be voicing if they were alone.

"We'll be off, then." Hammond answered, slapping his thighs lightly as he stood and turned back to the young man.

"Mr. Potter... son... It was a pleasure. Try to get some rest, and just call the doctor if Jack gets too much to handle. I'm sure she must have some tranquilizer darts somewhere."

Potter gaped at him for several seconds before remembering himself and nodding jerkily. "Yes, Sir."

"Jack..." He gestured out, but O'Neill refused, "Age before beauty," and winked at Potter, who managed a thin but marginally more natural smile in response.

"See ya' soon, Kid."

"Kay."

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Waiting until they were more settled in the briefing room, which was already occupied with the remainder of the SG1 team, Hammond ordered, "Jack, let's make this clear, we are going to discuss our guest, but I wan't to hear what happened on pxx4-735, first. Just how exactly did you end up in the belly of a goa'uld mother ship?"

"Just bad luck. Belly's the right word for it. I ended up there because the jaffa were getting hungry, tired of the grub they had, and stopped, unexpectedly, for a supply run. Look we knew that the Misuarouaik.."

"Nisuaro-A-iki, Jack, the Nisuaro-A-iki..." Daniel interrupted with a sigh.

"Whatever, we knew they were going to stay neutral, they've been straight up about that, but they've promised to let us know when it wasn't safe, and they did try to get us out of sight before the Jaffa came through, I just screwed up."

"In his defense, General, the guard was about to zat a toddler for getting in his way, and I don't think any of the rest of us would have been any less inclined to respond similarly if we could see what was happening." Samantha Carter interrupted.

"Very well, how did this leave the relations with the Nisuu -aro-A-iki," he paused pronouncing the word carefully, and acknowledging Daniel's approving smile with a nod.

"Actually," Danual answered, sounding a bit perplexed, "Better... The Nisuaro-A-iki spokesman said that they feel they owe us a debt, not for protecting the young girl, but for defaulting in their contractual agreement. It seems they view contracts retroactively to the point of the first offer, and any act that counters the final agreement even before it was made somehow implies a contractual breech that must be remitted. It's a bit confusing and touchy, but we're okay. Jack's action protecting her by grabbing her and pulling her out of the way falls within our stated interest in improving their stability and welfare, even though we did not specifically promise our military protection, so nothing he did breeched their perception of the contract. If he had raised a weapon instead, even just to threaten the jaffa, it would have been a breech of their perceived rights under the contract by interfering with a trade in progress. It's a strange viewpoint, and one that we'll have to be careful of, but we're okay, for now. "

"Okay, let's table the matter, for now, unless any other repercussions arise... aside from Jack spending the next month and a half in the hospital wing."

All of their eyes turned to O'Neill when he didn't explode in protest, and Hammond could see the feeling of dread fall over them as they realized why he wasn't arguing for the next scheduled off-world mission.

"Colonel, I believe Dr. Fraser gave you some files. Have you had the opportunity to..."

"Yeah."

O'Neill pushed the files into the center of the table, then half-pushed himself, half-struggled out of the seat, clearly unable to stay still. Half- half pacing a semi-circle around the conference table, O'Neill didn't acknowledge his team's attempts to pull themselves in tighter to the table to be less of an obstacle, though Hammond knew he was aware and appreciative of them never the less. Of all of the of the teams under his command, SG1 was the most skilled at silent communication of any team that he had ever seen, and it was sometimes a learning experience simply to watch them interact silently.

Even now, as O'Neill was pacing, little gestures were moving back and forth between Teal'c, Carater, and Daniel, with Teal'c and Carter clearly suggesting that Daniel give O'Neill time to build up to what he was going to say, and Daniel and Carter inquiring if Teal'c would ask whatever potentially-touchy question they had all seemed to independently come to. Teal'c nodded his agreement.

Finally, O'Neill stopped with a sharp jarring rap of the crutch foot into the carpet that was thin enough, despite being functional, to echo the strike.

"Whoever the bastards were that had him, they've shure as hell never heard of the frigging Geneva Convention," Jack's normally subdued 'down home' accent coming out thicker and sharper in with every word he spoke. "He's fifteen years old, and they gave him the full treatment: starvation; beatings; stress positions; torture; what looks to be electrical burns; some kind of blisters that Doc can only think came from chemical burns; some fricking derivative of SP-117; and … " he paused not seeming able to come up with right phrase, before finally settling on " ...worse."

"Worse?" Daniel asked, seeming stunned, and of course, Hammond thought, it would have to be Daniel who didn't grasp the implication, or perhaps didn't want to acknowledge the possiblity.

The team's silent gestures flew back and forth between Sam, Teal'c, and Jack, with Daniel waiting for them to come to the decision about who would make the matter plain. It finally fell to O'Neill, as Hammond had been certain it would, and from the resigned expression Jack wore, it was fairly clear that he had known it would as well.

"Danny... It's not... unknown... for some of the more ruthless SOBs out there to use what Hathor did to you, without the pheromone cocktail, to breakdown a prisoner's resistance."

Daniel paled, nodding. "Oh... I.. yes, of course, I probably knew that. Yeah. I knew that, of course I knew that... Uh... Just a... I just remembered something that I should have brought. General, if you don't mind I'd … I'll be right..."

"Of course." General Hammond agreed, sympathizing as the man rushed from the meeting room.

A swift significant rush of glances passed between them, but they seemed to conclude that he did not require their assistance, at least not yet, and Teal'c took a cue to resume the conversation in Daniel's wake.

"I am unfamiliar with the designation that you used SPee-one-seventeen," Teal'c commented extending the name out - though whether through artifice, or not, the general couldn't tell.

"SP117 is psychotropic serum created by the Soviet OTU laboratory, in Moscow." Carter answered decisively, "SP is an abbreviation for "special preparat", and until recently the substance had the highest secrecy classification known in the former KGB classification system. From what I have read, .01 ml of SP-117 can cause the loss of emotional and mental control, making the recipient prone to almost any form of suggestion, unable to resist questioning, and in the majority of cases, the recipient does not even remember receiving the drug."

"He stated that he fought a "verita" serum," Teal'c repeated the young man's earlier comment, with a grimace.

"Yes, Verita... means truth, in Latin." Daniel supplied from the door way, a glaze of sweat across his forehead and his lips wet as if he'd just washed out his mouth.

"I believe, then, that those whom he may have attempted to protect may be in danger, can we not find them and provide them warning or support?" Teal'c suggested glancing first to O'Neill then to the General.

"I am sorry, Teal'c, Old Buddy," the colonel answered, shaking his head, " just knowing he's from Earth, is not enough to tell us where he's from or where the people he's trying to protect were, much..."

"Actually, Colonel," Carter Interrupted, "based on the names he uttered before passing out: Shacklebolt, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and his name, I was able to identify and locate the individuals he was referring to, but I am afraid we're too late."

Taking the remote from the center of the table, Carter turned on the projector and laid the print out of a news article on the projection screen.

As the image expanded, she began reading:

London, England: Usually Mrs. Dorothy Elizabeth Granger slept till half past seven, but on July first this year, Mrs. Granger awoke at 4.30 a.m., bathed, dressed and began to prepare for her daughter, Hermione's sixteenth birthday party. She worked quietly, going through checklists, readying her and her husband's party clothes, setting up tents, and stringing up party decorations.

As dawn broke over the small house on the outskirts of London, the party guests began to arrive, one by one — Mr. Arthur Weasley, his wife, and and their seven children, one of whom was may have been dating the Granger's daughter. By half past 10, Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and twenty-three other schoolmates who had come down from their boarding school in Scotland as well as a small crowd of 18 adult guests had gathered outside the house, and waited for the birthday girl to emerge.

Three hours into the party, the family's two nearest neighbors and their homes were shaken when a powerful improvised explosive device (IED) ripped through house flinging parts of the roof several yards into the air.

"When we heard the blast, we stopped the car and looked back over our shoulders, but all we could see was smoke from what looked like a large fire," said Pushpa Majid, a taxi driver who was returning from dropping of party guests.

Pushpa and others turned back towards the smoking wreckage and when they arrived, saw bodies, he later described as " blown across the ground the ground like leaves are when you shake a tree."

Witnesses said that the IED exploded directly under the buffet table, killing everyone who had gathered close to watch Miss. Granger open her gifts. Ironically, also caught in the blast and killed, was the perpetrator, the infamous serial killer Sirius Black, who was responsible for the death of thirteen innocents in a similar bombing fourteen years earlier.

Search and rescue operations began immediately on the arrival of the authorities, whom Pushpa called to the scene, but as of 9 p.m. Friday, July first, the deceased victims whose next-of-kin have received notifications of their deaths are:

Adults-

Dorothy Elizabeth Granger, 46; Thomas Edward Granger, 48; Arthur Weasley, 49; Molly Erma Weasley, 46; Charles Weasley, 25; Percival Weasley, 19; Augusta Longbottom, 69; Minerva McGonnegall, 79; Vernon Dursley, 40; Petunia Dursley, 37; R. Lupin, 38; K. Shacklebolt, 42; Brian Wulfric, 95; E. Dodge, 82; A. Bones, 51; A. Figg, 67; Alastor Moody ; Ted Tonks, 59; Andromeda Tonks, 54; Unidentified Female, (estimated age mid twenties).

Children -

Hannah Abbott, 15; Katie Bell, 15; Susan Bones, 15; Terry Boot, 15; Lavender Brown, 17; Cho Chang, 15; Michael Corner, 15; Colin Creevey, 14; Marietta Edgecombe, 15; Justin Finch-Fletchley, 15; Seamus Finnigan, 15; Anthony Goldstein, 15; Hermione Granger, 15; Angelina Johnson, 17; Lee Jordan, 17; Neville Longbottom, 15; Luna Lovegood, 14; Ernie Macmillan, 15; Harry Potter, 15; Zacharias Smith, 15; Alicia Spinnet, 15; Dean Thomas, 15; Fred and George Weasley , 17; Ginny Weasley, 14; Ronald Weasley , 15.

This senseless tragedy will no doubt go down as one of the saddest days in London's recent history. "

Contributed by R.S. of the Reuters and APA Press Association.

When Carter finished reading, she returned to her seat, forgetting to switch the projector off.

Silence fell uncomfortably between them, but there was nothing to be said that they didn't already recognize from the news report, including the fact that if what he had already been through hadn't already destroyed Harry, the news they would eventually have to impart was very likely to be the final straw.


	6. Chapter 6

Itching under the pressure of the silence, in a way that he rarely ever felt even on fouled missions, and pricked by every glance that flashed back and forth between Sam, Danny, and T, Jack finally glared at Teal'c and growled, "Out with it."

"It is time that I take a Jo'sha'ffa to train. I have pledged my service the SGC, but my pledge of Jo'sha'ffa kal jomo se telek was made when I was taken into training by Master Bra'tak- I can not renounce either and call myself honorable. "

"OhhKayyyyy," Jack stared at him trying to see where Teal'c segue was going. Somewhere he wouldn't like, he was almost certain, or they wouldn't have been doing their version of drawing straws to tell him. "Just what exactly does that mean, and how do ya figure that it plays into this conversation?"

"Either I renounce my service to the SGC and return to my world to find a Jo'sha'ffa to train, or if you allow will me - I will attempt to locate a Jo'sha'ffa, who is willing to join SG1 and train within the scope of my service to the SGC."

"Somehow that makes it just exactly as clear as mud. Just exactly who or what is a J'sha'va, exactly?"

The swift snap of Teal'c's chin in Jack's direction -despite Teal'c's impassive expression - was more of a warning than Jack needed to tell him that he had shoved his size 12's so far in his mouth that it might require surgical removal. Danial's suddenly flat expression was more than enough of a blaring klaxon - screaming that he'd truly and royally screwed up, even before Daniel groaned.

"Jack, You REALLY have got to stop mangling your pronunciation. What you just called..." Daniel paused as Sam shuffled a file loudly, then began again, "What you just said, in some cultures could have forced Teal'c to challenge you to a duel you to the death, or at the very least made him honor bound to take retribution for the offense."

"It is not. In this time," Teal'c commented dryly, seeming to enjoy it when Jack shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "However, it is, also, not a phrase that I believe O'Neill will use again."

"Okay, just help me out here, what did I say wrong, and what is this all about?" Jack huffed finally when it seemed that Teal'c was ready to let the matter drop, even with Daniel practically gaping at him.

Jack knew that he was being manipulated, and he knew they knew he knew, and that even General Hammond had probably figured it out by now, which -by the way - he thought at them ironically 'way to go folks for showing up your team leader in front of the boss'.

"Your weakness in repeating the phrase I used correctly would state that the chal'til I will train will be trained for the duties of pleasure server instead of the duties of a warrior, which would mean that I - in turn - am a pleasure server to the gou'auld, for one can not train in the duties that one has not learned.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, T'... You know I didn't mean that. So this Jo'... uhm, help me out here Daniel..."

"Jo'sha'ffa..." Daniel pronounced the word slowly as if he was speaking to a preschooler, and Jack spared a moment to wonder if he couldn't talk Fraser into rescheduling Daniel's full annual physical and immunization boosters for the same day, oh say... on his next birthday, then continued.

"Yeah, that... So this Jo'sha'fuh..." he paused wincing when it didn't quite come out right, but although Teal'c raised a brow, he didn't comment, and Jack ran with it, "is some kind of rookie trainee that you have to take on? Do you think that's even possible? I mean to find one who would train with you when you've made a pretty big about face on the Jaffa's 'we're Jaffa, we serve our god' agenda?"

"I am aware of a young warrior who has survived his trials and may take his adult name, who will not be dissuaded by the stand I have taken."

Jack could see they were all waiting for him to get it, and he did get it (he never really been slow on the uptake, despite the show of it he often made to irk Danny), but that didn't mean that he had to like it, and he didn't. Still, he couldn't deny that It made sense, of course.

If the kid went along with it, and the General talked whoever he needed to talk into letting Teal'c bring a trainee along, which probably wouldn't take a great deal- seeing how much intel and actual service to the SGC Teal'c had provided - it would give them a lot of leeway on what they could do for the kid. A lot more than if Jack had adopted him, as he had strongly thought about doing while he watched the boy sleep - certain that if the kid's parent's had been alive they would never have let him get in the middle of whatever he had, or if they were and did, then they deserved to have him taken away from them- if only for his protection.

They wouldn't have to deal with custody issues and the service's provisions regulations surrounding the housing of officer's children, much less what they would need to do with him when Jack went on an off-world mission, which in all honesty, Jack wasn't really ready to give up yet. More than that, the kid's security issues could be pretty well secured this way, too. Whoever had hurt him would have a far more difficult time locating him or even discovering whether he was still alive, if he was never even logged in under his given name, which only SG1 knew. Plus, if necessary, they could protect him from discovery by letting Teal'c take him off world to one of their allies- heck, he could probably even go to the Nox, if need be, they'd wanted the kid for themselves to begin with, and no way would they have let him come to this kind of harm.

It made sense. Damn It! It made a lot of sense, and he knew that they knew he'd realize it to.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

Feeling their eyes on him, he resigned himself to agree with their suggestion. It had just been a whim, anyways, a strong whim, but probably not a well thought out one, though, or surely he would have come to the same conclusion they had. It was just that he'd maybe let himself get a bit enamored with the idea.

After the kid had fallen asleep, still clutching his arm in a death grip, Jack had thought pretty hard on what the kid would need to recover, and what he could do to help him get it. Jack had even thought over whether he was ready to be a dad again, and a bit to his surprise, the answer was a somewhat conditional yep. Married again? No. The doting poppa of a newborn or toddling two year old? Absolutely not... BUT, the surrogate dad for a messed up teen, who'd seen about the worst life had to offer, and needed someone who could understand why there had been nights when not hearing his captors coming down the hall was worse than knowing they were or how it could be impossible to hate every single one of his captors every single moment of the day when the mind's natural inclination during times of such deep and seemingly inescapable stress was to find an ally to ease the trials... someone who could understand what it was like to pick out the most humane seeming guard, and not fight quite as hard against that one, not resist that one's orders quite as strongly in hopes of appeasing him so that just maybe... just maybe … that guard would take pity on you and let you have a little more food or thirty seconds more at the washbasin or possibly even turn away if you tried to run. Jack knew that he could be that someone for the kid, he'd been there, been in the same place, and heck, he'd been that person for Danny more than once, too, so he knew he could have been that for the kid... But he couldn't argue that Teal'c could as well, and Teal'c had the stronger plan to protect Harry, which was the only thing that mattered in the long run.

"IF, and I suspect it may be a bigger if than you realize, but if you can get him to agree to … leaving his world and joining the SGC, with you, I would not hesitate to endorse your request. What do you think General?"

General Hammond was still staring at the newspaper article when Jack asked, reading the list of deceased children, if Jack's estimation of the angle of his gaze was correct. His focus was so intense that Jack wasn't certain, at first, whether the general had heard him or not.

When their eyes met, though, the flint-edged fury burning behind General Hammond's gaze was almost frightening, and Jack didn't envy any of the Capitol Hill bureaucrats who tried to stand the man's way.

"Your request is approved, Teal'c. Consider the paperwork retroactive when it comes through." General Hammond's sharp tone left no room for question, so Jack quickly turned back to their previous topic, "Anything else to report, Sam?"

"No, Sir."

"Danny?"

"Well, yeah. It's still pretty much theory, but I think I've worked out the evolutionary paths that Lya described."

ブレンキン

Daniel fought the urge to close his journal and leave, when Jack sighed at the word theory - not seeming to understand that, once, evidence of the stargate's existence had been nothing more than a theory to Daniel, and with a lot less potential mythic and anecdotal evidence than Daniel had come across in less than a half hour of searching.

"If we're going to talk THEORY, " Jack said 'theory' like it was a metaphorical dirty word, "Then, I think I'm going to need to sit down."

That said, in a tone that implied Jack would somehow need extra strength to even listen to Daniel's explanation, Jack clumped back around the table and dropped into his seat.

Samantha's smirk at Jack's antics, while not unexpected, didn't help matters, though Daniel would be first to admit that he couldn't wait to see how they were going to react to his theory - as potentially outlandish as it was.

"You remember how Lya said that 'In each race - there is the potential for development in one of five directions – parasitisis, symbiosis, technosis, ascensus, and alchemis? Parasitisis and symbiosis, we already have models for that we can identify, not only, from the examples that she gave but also from our own frames of reference, we have examples like viruses and bacteria or clown fish and sea anemones. Technosis, well, aside from the Asgard, humans are one of the best examples that I can think of to describe how technology has influenced both our physical and cultural evolution. "

"The last two, ascensus and alchemis were a bit more difficult to pin down, but, surprisingly there are quite a number of documents throughout a variety of religions, which suggest that humans can ascend from their normal state of …."

"Yada, yada, yada, Daniel, lay it out for us, you can use show Sam and the general your fancy charts, APA citations, and bib notes after I head back to the infirmary. I'd really rather not leave the kid too much time to think about things, if you know what I mean."

Suppressing his annoyance at Jack's flippant interruption, Daniel couldn't really argue his point. He'd been in the same position as Potter more than once and knew how much of a relief Jack's distractions and meaningless, sometimes infuriatingly meaningless, conversations could proved.

"Fine, yes, Okay. I think and it really is just a theory, but I think that Lya was saying that the race she named as an Ascensis evolved may have somehow … eh... escaped the cycle of life and death... but transcending the mortal realm somehow, maybe via an alternate dimension."

"Daniel, are you saying that they've become immortals?" Sam challenged, her eyes shining with almost distaste and definite disbelief, "Like gods?"

"I don't know, maybe so and maybe... or no, not necessarily, but that the others think that they have? You have to admit we weren't really given much to work on."

"And the other word, Alchemis …" Jack broke in, "you're thinking that just maybe Lya was referring to alchemy … transmutation of metals into elixers granting eternal life? … In short, magic?"

Beaten to the punch, Daniel stared at Jack trying to remember what he'd said that had given his thoughts away so easily.

"Daniel Jackson, it is unwise to hold one's mouth open so long. On Bartete, if you were to do this, there are small creatures that secure such spaces as nests to lay their eggs. I understand that it is quite painful for they use razor-like stinging claws to hollow a nest before implanting their eggs. It is said that they lay as thickly as one's fist..."

Thankfully, Teal'c's lecture stopped as soon as Daniel snapped his mouth shut, but not before it drew Jack's smug attention to his shock.

"How..." … … How did he even ask how Jack knew that without it sounding insulting?

"You have heard of Galileo? Right, Danny, you know the one - who was really interested in astronomy … AND Alchemy? As long as you were talking about their escaping death? It was a pretty big clue?"

"Riiiight!"

Somehow, Jack always managed to catch him by surprise, and the most infuriating aspect of it though was he alternated between grasping subjects that as far as Daniel could see, he had no reason to know, and being absolutely dense on matters that Daniel had been almost certain that everyone, past the age of ten knew. There were times it made Daniel just want to pound his head on his desk, and what made it worse was that he really couldn't tell whether this was one of those times or not.

Opening his mouth to continue his report, Daniel was interrupted by the whistle of the intercom. It wasn't an emergency signal, the base had repetitive and redundant systems to report emergencies of almost any variation that anyone could thing of, and the intercom whistle meant nothing other than someone was trying to call from within the base.

At the same time, no one ever interrupted a team debriefing unless it was an emergency.

ブレンキン

"General Hammond?" Dr. Fraser's voice echoed through the room as soon as Sam punched the button.

"I'm here, Doctor."

"Sir, our... guest is asking to speak with someone by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt. I tried to explain that we don't have anyone on the base by that name, but he is getting rather agitated and claims that he has already spoken to this person once since arriving here. I would rather not sedate him, if we can avoid doing so... but I asked for a description, thinking that he may have simply mistaken the names, and he's describing Teal'c, Sir."

"We'll be right down, Doctor."

The memory of Potter's brief conversation with Teal'c after he arrived through the gate was both fresh in their thoughts and all the more poignant for their knowledge of the answer the would have to give him. As much as he was suffering now, allowing him to contemplate any other possible outcome would not only interfere with their plans to protect him but would also build a construct of false hope for a possibility that could never be.


	7. Chapter 7

"bodies... blown across the ground like leaves are when you shake a tree."

Witnesses said that the IED exploded directly under the buffet table,

killing everyone who had gathered close to watch Miss. Granger open

her gifts. Ironically, also caught in the blast and killed, was the perpetrator,

the infamous serial killer Sirius Black, who was responsible for the death of

thirteen innocents in a similar bombing fourteen years earlier.

Search and rescue operations began immediately on the arrival of the

authorities, whom Pushpa called to the scene, but as of 9 p.m. Friday,

July first, the deceased victims whose next-of-kin have received notifications

of their deaths are...

ブレンキン

Harry ran his fingers over the printed article as he re-read the story over and over again - trying to make sense of it. He couldn't absorb the meaning of what he was reading and almost hoped that trying to touch it would help him find some flaw in the vision... because this had to be a vision sent to torment him. It couldn't be real; his failure... his failure couldn't have condemned 48 people to their deaths. He couldn't have... this couldn't … It had to be a vision.

Voldemort hadn't stopped sending visions to torture him, not even when he was in the ministry's custody. He'd reveled in subjecting Harry visions to the extent that it had even unnerved the guards who had been the roughest on him, when his scar would spontaneously split and thick rivulets of blood would roll down his forehead.

Blood.

Ignoring the thin smooth grain of processed paper beneath the pads of his fingers, he lifted a hand and slowly wiped his fingertips across his forehead.

There should be blood.

There was almost never a vision anymore that didn't cause his scar to split bleed, his body's defense had just been too weakened by the ministry's abuse to withstand much of any physical or mental stress. There should be blood on his fingertips. That would prove it.

Slowly pulling his fingertips down to study them, Harry almost couldn't bear to turn them over- at first, couldn't bear to check, and he stared at his hand, trying not to notice the way it trembled under his gaze. Finally, when his anticipation had built up to an unbearable urge, he turned his hand and tried to breath.

There should have been blood.

His fingertips were pale, trembling, and absolutely clean, but there should have been blood.

There should have been blood.

He couldn't have...

He couldn't have betrayed everyone...

Everyone he knew …

Everyone he cared about...

There should have been blood. His blood...

It should have been his blood... his blood on his hands. Not theirs. He couldn't have betrayed them; he was supposed to save them.

He was the chosen one … the boy who lived; Dumbledore had said so. He was the one who was supposed to stop Voldemort - for them; he was supposed to have been their tool, their weapon, not the ministry's...

His pale shaking hands... his violently shaking fingertips couldn't be clean - there had to be blood.

Dark palms closed around his hands, and stilled them.

"Chal'til, tal'ne chel nok mako. Release this pain. Do not put a cage around it. It will not tame. "

Harry lifted his gaze until he was staring into the eyes of the man he'd mistaken for Kingsley, and he opened his mouth to say he couldn't, but his voice and breath and pain were blocked in his throat, and he couldn't force them out, any more than he could push away the oppressive feeling of hysteria and agony that he could feel descending on him.

He couldn't release the torment descending on him because it was too much... because he'd have to get a hold of it first, and It was too strong and too violent. It would tear him apart if he tried.

What he'd felt when he'd first had to cope with Sirius's death had been as bad as any of the torture that the minister's goons had inflicted on him, and Harry had desperately hoped that he would never have to feel anything like that, again.

He had never imagined that there could be something worse: a pain so deep and inescapable that simply acknowledging it's existence was more terrifying than anything he had ever faced. It was the fear of even acknowledging it that was holding his breath frozen in his lungs.

Jerking his chin frantically back and forth he gasped for air that wouldn't cooperate, the air itself seeming intimidated by the turbulent force constricting his throat and lungs.

He was becoming lightheaded, and his sight was beginning to go gray when one of the man's hands raised to cup his chin, and hold it in place so that their eyes met.

"I am called Teal'c." He began, simply. "I did not come from your planet. "

"Teal'c," General Hammond's voice sounded sharp with caution, but Teal'c did not even turn his head to look at the man, but continued on, saying, "I am not of your people. I do not know you and bear no responsibility in your journey, yet I wish to."

The man's introduction was so unexpected and so unprecedented that Harry caught his breath shock, then gulped another greedily, and another, and another - until he was breathing somewhat more steadily, and wiping tears of relief from his cheeks when Teal'c let his hands go. That's all they were, a physical symptom of being able to breath again; that's all. That's all it was.

Still, he felt so uncomfortable about it that he couldn't lift his eyes to meet the man's gaze as he considered the possibility. Mulling over what Teal'c had said and the whole implausibility of it, he was struck with the thought that really, in the end, it was really no more implausible that giants and werewolves and vampires and hippogriffs, and he knew that those were real, no matter how many people believed they weren't... and really, weren't aliens just people that lived on other planets, and everyone knew that there were other planets out there, galaxies full of them. When it came down to it, the wizarding world was a lot more impossible than an alien world - impossible but true.

Seeming unconcerned by his hesitation, Teal'c continued, explaining that he wished to take Harry on as some kind of apprentice, as he would have someone from his own world... passing him off as someone from his own world, in fact.

As Teal'c explained, a stinging kind of irony welled up in his throat , drawing a dry, aching chuff of breath - that might have otherwise been a chuckle- if it weren't from the memory of telling Headmaster Dumbledore he didn't want to be human if it meant feeling that kind of pain. It looked like he was getting his wish.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow questioningly, but there was no was to explain, so Harry posed a question of his own: "Why?"

Unspeaking, Teal'c watched him for several seconds until Harry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and started to say, "nevermind."

Behind Teal'c, Jack cleared his throat, and when Harry lifted his head, Jack's eyes narrowed, and he canted his head slighty toward Teal'c. He might as well have had said. "Quiet down and pay attention." Beside him a blonde woman, who had been introduced though he couldn't remember her name, smiled encouragingly and flicked her eyes back toward Teal'c, seeming to echo Jack's message. General Hammond looked pensive and slightly uncomfortable with Teal'c's statement, but willing to trust his judgment. The only one who wasn't looking at him was the one named Daniel, who had been avoiding his gaze since seconds after their introduction.

"While I am unknown to you," Teal'c finally responded seeming casually indifferent. "no answer that I speak will satisfy your question. I will ask you in a year so that you may tell me."

"I - … "

Harry glanced away, to stare at the article in his lap and ran his fingers over the page, but didn't read it again. Reading it wouldn't change what it said. Glancing back and forth across the others expression, he tried to figure out why they wanted to do this but their expressions, while encouraging, were open as if they would accept any decision he made. It was so unusual that he almost wanted to test them on it, but eventually, he decided that whether they were willing to accept his refusal or not, he really didn't have any other choice.

Finally, he murmured, "Yeah, okay."

"You will observe the tasks I perform, the strategies I employ, and the values I protect, and take them as your own."

Although Teal'c had seemed almost emotionless through the whole convresation to that point, something in his tone and manner told Harry that Teal'c words were suddenly more significant and serious than they might seem - as if it was an oath... an oath that he was expecting Harry to give, without having anyway of knowing the implications of Harry - or any other wizard giving an oath.

There was hardly any way he could think of to explain that wouldn't require him to drag out the all of the details, and risk dragging them into the whole mess if he did. Once they'd explained, when he'd asked again to speak with Kingsley, that they really didn't know who sent Harry through, or why, he'd realized how dangerous it would be for them if he did. If he could have thought of anyway out of there, he would have left as quickly and as quietly as he could, but the incredible pain that just shifting his arm on the bed had caused quickly convinced him that running hadn't been an option... but if he couldn't run, his only choice was to stay and make the best he could of the situation until he could separate from them and make his way back to England, to the order, to the prophecy, and to Voldemort.

The oath would make that plan impossible, Harry thought to himself, ignoring the treacherous little whisper in the back of his thoughts that whispered the article already made his plans impossible. But, what Teal'c was offering... if that had something to do with the power that Voldemort knew not, could he afford to turn the man's offer down?

The question was swiftly giving him aching headache that only swelled when he finally answered, "I will."

"You will seek out my guidance when you are uncertain of your duties?"

"I will."

"You will heed my knowledge and follow as I instruct?"

"I will."

Teal'c nodded and paused, reaching out a hand to cup it under Harry's chin and lift it until their eyes met. For a second, Harry thought he was going to welcome Harry formally or something, until Harry saw the determination in his eyes and something that might be sympathy or empathy.

No! Harry thought anxiously. He didn't know what was coming, but it wouldn't be good. It couldn't be good, with Teal'c looking like that.

"Please..." he began, hoping to forestall what he was beginning to suspect was coming, but Teal'c had already begun to speak...

"Then heed my command, Chal'til. Tal'ne chel nok mako. Release this pain! Do not dishonor those who are lost - Do not act as if they can leave this existence having left no mark upon it or upon you."

Whether it was the oaths he'd just taken, the blunt truth of Teal's words, or the numbness that had been slowly fading as they'd spoken, Harry couldn't have guessed, but whatever the catalyst was, it viciously sliced through his detachment, leaving him raw and open as the truth broke over him like shattering glass that pierced him through with the most inescapably, unutterable, inexpressible pain he had ever known. It became the core of his existence, in that moment, and the sole focus of his awareness.

He couldn't see the understanding and empathy in Teal'c's eyes, didn't feel his chin pull from the man's careful but firm grasp, couldn't hear his voice as he began to scream, didn't hear the flourescent lights shatter, didn't see the klaxon lights and alarms flash on as the electricity flared and ebbed around him. Nothing existed but pain, loss, loneliness, and emptiness until his physical weakness became a mercy, and he lost consciousness - not even aware of the darkness as it surrounded him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are definitely intentional errors and discrepancies in the news report, including Bill's absence from the list, various age differences, Hermione's birthday being months off, and Harry and Sirius named in the list - when we know that one was already dead and Harry's alive, there are others who are listed among the dead, who aren't and some not listed who are, but the full details will come out over time. It boils down to the article being a piece of political propaganda that will unravel over time.
> 
> For those whom felt Lucius wouldn't have grown a heart, don't worry, he really hasn't. His comment to Harry is more a matter of limits and standards (i.e. being an extreme racist doesn't necessarily imply being a child rapist, and using a basilisk (as a tool to potentially kill a child with a look) in a situation where he didn't have to watch it happening much less play a hand in it might not be the same as having to get his hands dirty "defiling" one. 
> 
> He is still a devoted follower of Voldemort and will be until the new SG1 team throw a little light on the issue. If nothing else, just consider this incarnation of him of as a picky SOB.


	8. Chapter 8

A light flashing back and fourth across his face, pink gray pink through his eyelids, signaled a shift in Harry's awareness. Soft whispers were coming from nearby, but they seemed vague and surrescent almost as if they were the soft hisses of snakes, but he knew they weren't because he couldn't understand them.

A whiff of rubbing alcohol, elastiplaster tape, and lemon cleaner pulled him closer to the surface. The scent was enough to pull him to the surface of his thoughts and to tell him where he was, but this time - instead of the jarring unfamiliarity he'd felt waking the previous two times, this time he felt as if he was floating back to consciousness.

His thoughts had a gentle lucidity that reminded him of what had happened before he passed out, but refused to feed him the attendant emotions. He knew that there was something off about that, but he was unconcerned with feeling numb again - numbness was easier. Numbness was almost pleasant despite the weighty feeling of his arms and legs.

"Sir, he's coming to." Dr. Fraser's voice interrupted his drifting awareness, thankfully drawing his most recent memories to the surface.

In the utter numbness that engulfed him, their offer, to give him a place on their team and a guardian, who could train him to fight, seemed even more surreal and illogical.

In Harry's experience, people didn't just offer their assistance, if there wasn't something in it for them. 

The Dursleys certainly hadn't; the teachers at his primary school had never offered despite their annual "if you need help- come to us" program in the auditorium, and he was pretty sure that there'd been enough signs; at Hogwarts, his teachers hadn't been particularly inclined to help when he tried to warn them about Quirell or the basilisk or Voldemort, even the Weasleys, whom he'd thought might care a bit, hadn't offered when George and Fred had told them how the Dursleys had locked him in and half starved him.

Still, he couldn't think of anything they'd hoped to gain from helping him. He hadn't done any magic, and certainly, hadn't told them he could. So, what was left?

"Son, can you hear me?" General Hammond's soft gruff voice interrupted his thoughts.

"His name's Harry, Sir." A woman's voice, that wasn't the doctor's suggested, "He might respond more quickly to it."

Harry didn't know if that was true, but he appreciated the suggestion; he'd never really liked anyone calling him son. It just reminded him of what he didn't have.

"Harry, son, can can you hear me?"

Well, it was a nice suggestion anyway.

Harry tried for a 'Yes, Sir,' but, like his legs, his lips and tongue felt as numb as if they were almost asleep, and his mouth didn't really move right, so that the sound if he made any could only have been a murmur at best.

He tried again trying to focus on moving his lips, so they could at least read his lips, but they didn't respond to his second attempt, so he wasn't sure he'd succeeded.

It took three more attempts before he finally grunted softly in response then choked off in a pained hiss.

"Doctor?"

"I warned you, General," Fraser huffed. "His pharynx is severely inflamed."

"I'm sorry, son." The general offered, sounding sincere and regretful as he continued, "I know it's difficult to speak right now, and I apologize for the necessity, but we have a slight concern that we need to discuss with you."

The General paused before continuing, giving Harry the chance to respond, he supposed.

"Just before you lost consciousness, when you screamed, the lights and power cut off throughout the base. It has taken 48 hours for our operation control folks to test every inch of our circuitry from the breaker to power switch in the coat closet, and we've found nothing to cause it. Given that the only other unusual event to occur, at that time, was your loss of consciousness...Son, I need to ask you if there could be a connection."

"Yhsss." Harry answered softly, wincing.

"Easy, Son, just nod if you can. Has something like this ever happened before?"

Harry nodded, carefully, and breathed a sigh of relief when he only felt a twinge of pain.

"Has it happened often?"

Shaking his head was a little more painful, but not as much as lifting his hand and gesturing.

"Only once?" The general questioned, sounding somehow different.

Harry nodded in agreement.

"That's good to hear. Daniel suggested that it was accidental - not intentional and not under your control, but both Jack and Teal'c believe that it was a response to the extremity of the circumstances. Does that sound accurate to you?"

Harry nodded again, relieved that Jack and Teal'c had argued for him, but wondering how dangerous the others might think he was.

"Thank you, Son. That's all, for now. Doctor."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Dr. Fraser come up beside him, and open a clip that had been clamped around a clear plastic tube running up to his arm and under a bandage in the soft plain of skin between his upper arm and his forearm.

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When Harry next woke, it was to shouting.

Blinking his eyes open, he was startled to see both Jack and Doctor Fraser yelling at each other with loud, sharp asides almost snarled at General Hammond.

"As long as that snake is here, he won't be!" Jack argued loudly.

"Sir, with all due respect, Apophis is badly injured he is not going to be a threat ..." Dr. Fraser interjected.

Jack cut her off with a sneer, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Or of any use to you if we don't get him to the OR, right now!" She countered, seeming to ignore his previous comment with an air of long-experience doing so.

"A show of hands for everyone who's okay with that?" Jack answered dryly, lifting his hand, despite the wince it caused. Behind him, Teal'c copied the gesture.

Unlike Jack, Teal'c's expression was so still as to be foreboding, and it gave Harry a shiver down his spine at the underlying menace, until Teal'c's gaze shifted to him. The man's dark eyes softened with concern, and the change in his expression let Harry release the breath he'd unconsciously been holding. When he did, Teal'c nodded his approval, somehow, seeming to have sensed the change.

"Jack, we have a lot of questions that need answers." General Hammond commented firmly, in what even Harry could tell was an order to let the matter drop, "I'll have four SF's posted at all times, and you'll be here. If he attempts to escape, you're authorized to do what ever is necessary to stop him."

"Not good enough!" Jack snapped back, glaring at the doctor.

Before the general, who's expression was beginning to darken from understanding to anger, Teal'c stepped forward, drawing their attention and silencing them, without even saying a word.

"General Hammond, did you not state that Harry has been recognized by your superiors as my chal'til "my apprentice" and that I am 'formally' his guardian?"

"Yes, however..."

"Is it not within the power a guardian to state what medical treatment his charge may receive?"

"Teal'c,..."

"General Hammond, I 'formally' request that my chal'til, Ha'ri be removed to my quarters, for the recover. If it is not possible to assign a nurse to his care within my quarters, I wish to take leave until such a time as he has recovered and we may return to active duty."

"Teal'C!" Dr. Fraser turned on the man, "He's hardly stabilized, himself. He'd be..."

"General Hammond?" Teal'c questioned, ignoring her completely.

"Dr. Fraser." Harry almost felt sorry for the General as he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not looking at any of the three.

"General, he's not ready to be moved!" She protested.

"Can he be moved safely?" General Hammond asked wearily.

Harry could see that she wanted to answer no, but after a second, she finally nodded, agreeing, "Yes, he can, but he shouldn't. We can..."

"Is there a nurse, whom can be assigned to care for him until this is settled?"

"Yes, but."

"Doctor, please relocate the young man to Teal'c's quarters, and assign the nurse. I would prefer to have a member of SG1 present, at all times."

When she opened her mouth to protest again, the general dropped the fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and repeated his order, "Janet, please relocate Harry to Teal'c's quarters, and assign the nurse as requested."

"Yes, General." The doctor snapped her fingers up to her forehead and pulled them away in a quick salute that somehow looked, to Harry, disrespectful and angry. From the general's responding sigh, Hammond seemed to think so, too.

"Gentlemen, I'll be in my office. Contact me, as soon as they bring Apophis up from surgery."

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Already tense with anticipation of their soon-to-be-arriving-snake 'guest', Jack nearly shouted, "You gotta be kiddin me!" when Teal'c stopped the nurse as she was slipping her arm behind Harry to ease him forward to the bed's edge- with a brusque, "Hold!".

"What's going on T?" he asked impatiently.

"I cannot take him past others, in this manner."

"In this manner?"

"He is to be introduced as my Chal'til. It would is better if he appears such."

"You do realize that we're running down on time here."

Teal'c starred at him with infuriating impassivity.

"Come on, T. No one's going to think twice about him wearing a hospital gown."

"No his attire is - irrelevant." … and Jack could have just damned Daniel for teaching Teal'c that word, which was showing up with annoying frequency in Teal'c's demands.

"He requires a tattoo, and his hair is not a common style for Jaffa. The speed of the event will blur the memory of his arrival in the minds of those who were present, but they will soon begin interacting so that it is it is better if they see him as we wish him to be seen."

"You really wanna give him a tattoo? Right now?"

"It is expected of Jaffa- to bear the mark of their dedication."

"Teal'c, can't you think of a better time for this, like any better time? And what's this with his hair?"

Teal'c stared at him, silently, as if it should be obvious, and after a moment, Jack turned to Harry.

"Did he even ask you about this?"

"This?"

"Teal'c wants to shave your head and give you a tattoo smack dab in the center of your forehead."

"C- c-an," Harry began, then dropped his voice to an almost whisper when the rawness of his throat seemed to make itself known again, "Can it cover my scar?"

Teal'c stepped in close and lifted Harry's bangs to reveal a rather long - raw lightning shaped scar just a smidge off center. After a moment, Teal'c nodded.

"Yes, I know of a symbol that will cover. It is from a legend from the tau'ri – of Garuda, an ancient enemy of the Goa'uld. All who become first prime are taught the symbol and instructed not to challenge any wearing it, but to immediately report their presence at all costs."

"Okay, then."

"Okay, then?" Jack protested, "Just that easy? What about your hair?"

Harry shrugged, truly not seeming to care. Jack shot a glance at Teal'c and was glad to see that his friend had noticed, but didn't press any further.

"Well then... If there's no convincin' you two that this is a bad idea... Whatcha need?"

"I believe that Dr. Fraser possess the tools to remove hair before a surgery and an pen that she uses to body areas to be prepped for surgery. Those would suffice."

"Kay, I think I know where those are. Give me a sec."

Scanning the room, Jack cast his mind back to the last time he'd had to have surgery and reviewed the last few moments before they knocked him out, then headed straight to a set of drawers half-way down the counter. The first drawer had an array of needles, syringes, tubes, and other useless nicknacks; the second one slapped shut with a rattle, barely missing his fingers, as Fraser jerked the third drawer out.

"No one expects teenagers to have common sense." She huffed, "But you two should know better."

"Look, it's not like I want..." Jack began, but she was cut him off sharply.

"Jack," she retorted as she grabbed a tray and shoved it none to gently into his stomach, "don't waste time trying to dig yourself out of this; I have a patient coming down here very shortly, and since you're both so insistent that you can't trust us to keep Harry safe - he needs to be out of here before Apophis arrives."

Jack glowered at her, not repenting in the slightest, their decision to move Harry.

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Stepping back, Teal'c watched as Harry took the hand mirror that O'Neill found and slowly brought it up to stare at himself. After several moments, his less injured arm raised and his palm slowly slid over his now bald scalp. His fingers trembling lightly, then returned to his forehead where it settled just below the symbol Teal'c had carefully drawn.

It was a temporary measure, but Teal'c had the necessary dyes in his quarters, and there were few, at the SGC, with sufficient observational skills to recognize a difference, later.

"It really does cover... it. No one would have recognized me, like this." Harry murmured, before glancing up to catch Teal'c's gaze with a ruefully shy expression. "Thank you."

The unexpectedly solemn gratitude lingered in Teal'c's thoughts for several seconds, but he consigned them to later thought when O'Neill cleared his throat.

"Kree lo shak," he ordered softly, slipping one arm behind Harry's shoulder's and the other beneath his legs.

"Chula, Ha'ri." He continued, lifting the young man gently, and turning to put him down in the wheel chair that O'Neil had brought. The nurse stepped up with a blanket to put over Harry's legs, and the boy blushed and dropped his gaze to the hand resting in his lap.

Taking the blanket from her, Teal'c pulled one corner up to wrap behind Harry's neck, then pulled it across his body and tucked it into the chair beside his hip so it would look like a cha nel mak.

"Ha'ri?" Curious green eyes, slid up to meet his, once he stood.

"Yes, Jo'sha'ffa, who have survived the trials required to be trained as a Jaffa are given adult names. Ha'ri was the companion of Garuda. The Goa'uld describe him as the thief "who steals, or takes away" lovingly the hearts of their faithful. He was the enemy who could not be fought because his weapons were invisible."

"I... Okay, er... Thank you." The soft flush that spread across Harry's cheeks almost brought a smile to Teal'c's lips, but he stilled them in time, and continued.

"Also, Jaffa say ha'ri kree to ask for silence because the Goa'uld wished to deny his existence so it is a command that one is to be so silent that it would seem as if they did not exist. When we leave this room, until you have learned to speak as is needed, I ask that you be silent."

Understanding flashed through Harry's bright eyes, with a glimmer of humor, and the boy drew his fingers across his lips in a symbol of silence that Teal'c easily understood.

"Speaking of which," O'Neill interrupted impatiently. "Can we have a little less talk an a little more action?"

"Yes, O'Neil. Chula, Ha'ri," He repeated, stepping behind the wheel chair to replace O'Neil.

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Although they made it out of the infirmary without incident, Jack cursed and pulled Harry's chair quickly away from the elevator doors as a nurse and four SF's stepped out, pulling a gurney with them.

'Shure enough' the blasted snake who should have been dead four times over, named Apophis, was strapped to it, not nearly as dead as Jack would have liked.

"Get him in lock down, Now!" He ordered angrily, cursing Murphy's law, Jaffa customs, and a normally stalwart team member, who'd chosen that day to become positively chatty.

Even as he was pulling Harry away, and Teal'c was stepping between them, Apophis's eyes landed on Harry and widened in shock.

"Garuda's shev'ashhis hishish so'kar sha'skeshsis," Apophis descend into violent hissing so virulent in tone that Jack expected him to foam at the mouth any minute.

To his and Teal'c utter astonishment, (because if it was possible for Teal'c to look any more astonished, he'd like to see it), Apophis's 'rant' was met with a rasping hiss that had Teal'c jumping out of the way too and turning to look at Harry in shock.

Harry's face was pulled tight with pain and anger, but whatever he was saying, he wasn't backing down even when Apophis's eyes went red, which should have been more than enough to spook a kid, who'd never seen a goa'uld before. Not that Harry didn't react to that, though; he reacted- just not in the way Jack had expected to.

Throwing a hand up to clutch his forehead, Harry glared at the snake and hissed again.

"Ha'ri Kree!" Teal'c barked stepping between them again as he and Jack came to their senses.

Harry looked up in shock and paled even further, but nodded. A thin trail of blood trickled out from beneath his hand and down the side of Harry's nose.

"Get the bastard out of here," Jack ordered the SF's trying to split his attention between Harry and Apophis and trying figure out what the hell had just happened.

"Teal'c, you go with him, and find out what that was about, if you can, I'm staying here."

He didn't have to say, "General's orders." They both knew it, and regardless of what had just happened, neither one wanted to leave Apophis alone and essentially unguarded, despite the SF's.


	9. Chapter 9

"Garuda's shev'ashhis hishish so'kar sha'skeshsis..." The words of Apophis cycled over and over through Teal'c thoughts as he pushed Ha'ri's wheel chair to his quarters.

~Garuda's shev'a … Garuda's worthless supplicant, ashi... spit drinker... his hishish (hishesh?) too late?, So'kar sha'skesh … Sokar's joy...

After that, Apophis's words had moved so swiftly that Teal'c had not been able to follow as they descended into the Goa'uld's private language. Ha'ri had been able to understand Apophis, though, and Teal'c's primta had understood Ha'ri... understood and feared Ha'ri since.

They remained silent the entire walk to his room, but as the door closed behind them, Teal'c could not restrain his question.

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"You will tell me how you understood what Apophis said to you, what he said to you, and what you said your response." His tone permitted no response but compliance, and Ha'ri's eyes said that he understood.

"When you s-aid," Ha'ri began hoarsely, "That the aliens were snakes, I didn't think you meant it literally. I thought you meant they couldn't be trusted because they could possess you. I've always been able to understand snakes."

"Aliens are not snakes," Teal'c denied firmly, "Nor are the Goa'uld; the Goa'uld have but a form similar to snakes."

"Well, they're similar enough that I could understand them."

"Indeed, it did seem so. What did Apophis say?"

"He recognized this..." Ha'ri's blood tinted fingertips returned to Teal's hand drawn tattoo, for a moment, before he continued, "And I think he was freaked out by it. He started calling me names, like my cousin doe- did when he was really scared and didn't know how to handle it. He did say something … Well, I don't know if it's odd or not, but it was pretty creepy..."

"Continue..."

"He said that something, or someone, someone I think … is coming and whoever it is would take pleasure using my blood to quench the flames of... I didn't really understand what he called it. Snakes don't think the same way people do, so their language is different, too. What he called it means nest of flames, but I don't know what its real name is."

"Netu," Teal'c answered suppressing a shudder.

"Ohhh-kay."

"You responded."

"I know, I'm sorry. I know you said to keep my mouth shut, but..."

"I did not say to keep your mouth shut."

"No, I mean, you told me not to talk, but I'm - - I'm not really good keeping my mouth shut when people are being berks."

"This, you will learn." Teal'c nodded his understanding, but pressed further, "However, that is not the immediate concern. What was you're response?"

"I - It was stupid. I didn't tell him anything about what you told me about the SGC. I don't really know much anyway." Ha'ri lifted his shoulders in the same manner that Daniel Jackson used when he wished not to answer.

"Yet, clearly you spoke." Teal'c retorted

"Yeah. What I said... It's the truth, but there is a long story behind it."

"That will be told also, then," Teal'c pressed, "but first repeat what you answered him."

"Er... Okay, I - I told him that... that I'm-the-boy-who-lived-and-he's-not-the-first-snake-that's-tried-to-kill-me-but-I-don't-die-as-easily-as-they'd-like.

Teal'c individually understood every word in the rush of words - but at the same time could not. What the boy said, on the surface, seemed unlikely, possibly entirely false, at best, and utterly true, at worst.

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Holding up his hand for silence, Teal'c ordered, "Kree!", and stalked to the intercom beside the door frame.

"General Hammond, Ha'ri ha..."

"Son, can this wait? We're having another unexpected visitor coming through the gate right now."

"Sir, I do not believe that it can."


	10. Chapter 10

"Since Jacob has joined the Tok'ra, I have come to a… deeper understanding of your people, your purpose, and your extraordinary gifts." Martouf of the Tok'ra offered, seeming distracted as he glanced around the room.

"Thank you." General Hammond offers, watching the Tok'ra officers curiously. Since the Tok'ra representatives had arrived, they had grown more and more distracted; at times, not even seeming to pay attention to the General as they discussed the situation.

Thankfully, after the event between Apophis and their new charge, Jack had elected to keep watch over Apophis; otherwise, the general was certain that his sharp temper would have exacerbated their guest's apparent tension.

"However… even compassion while nobly intended can..." Martouf paused seeming to consider and reconsider his words, before Lantash seemed to tire of his host's indecision and took control of the conversation: "Apophis has taken advantage of your weakness."

"We don't consider what we did a sign of weakness." Major Carter interrupted, bristling at Lantash's cold manner. While the general had never asked, he was aware that Martouf and Lantash had been in a close relationship with Jolinar, one which appeared to have left it's shadow in Jolinar's temporary host, shaking the Major's customary equanimity.

"Then you are fools. Turn him over to Sokar now, and he may spare you. Sokar is at war with Her'ur. He wants no part of the Tau'ri for the moment, but if refuse him, you will all die. If not by the hand of Sokar, then by the many Goa'uld who would wish to destroy Apophis themselves. You do not see what you have done. You've entered a battle in which you are ill-equipped to fight — tipped the balance of power among the Goa'uld - and in so doing, worsened the fortune of your entire race."

"Apophis is dying." General Hammond broke in when Major Carter's expression had gone stormy again, "In the short time he has remaining, we may yet learn information that could help us to defend ourselves."

"Your race's knowledge and technology are too primitive for such information to be of any use." Lantash retorted seeming to grow even more irritated by his interruption, "Why don't you comprehend the danger you are in? We cannot defend you from the Goa'uld. You cannot expect us to."

"We don't," Major Carter snapped, glaring at Martouf and Lantash.

"Overconfidence was... " Lantash growled, then stilled, freezing a moment before relinquishing control to Martouf.

"Forgive Lantesh. He is sometimes passionate in his opinions." Martouf sighs. "We cannot and would not force you to do anything, but since we have not convinced you of the danger you face, may we see him?"

"Why do you want to?" Dr. Fraser questioned, her hands going to her hips and her posture becoming defensive.

Before either Martouf or Lantash could respond, the conference room door slid open and Teal'c entered half-carrying Harry, who was clutching his forehead and leaning weakly against the Jaffa's chest.

"General Hammond, we regret to interrupt, but Ha'ri is in need of Doctor Janet Fraser's medical attention. I do not know if he could wait for our meeting to begin."

"Understood Teal'c," General Hammond agreed, gesturing to the nearest chair as the doctor rushed around the edge of the table to check on their charge. Even as she did so, Martouf and the two Tok'ra guards jumped from their seats.

Martouf grabbed the doctor's arm, warning, "Do not approach him; the child is compromised."

General Hammond jumped to his feet in alarm and waved the guards forward, but Dr. Fraser intervened before even Teal'c could.

"No, he's not! That's one of the first things that I checked before I let my surgeons work on him. Do you think it's news to us that gou'ald will use children as traps? I can show you our tests."

"Your tests are wrong." Lantash growled, Martouf's eyes flaring bright yellow with the Tok'ra's irritation.

"No." Teal'c retorted. "Samantha Carter and I able to detect goa'uld, and did not."

"Then you are compromised,too." Lantash argued, glancing at his guards who were beginning to move into defensive positions.

"Gentlemen," General Hammond began, but before he could bring the situation back under control, the child at the center of their argument pushed himself, unsteadily, to his feet, pushing the doctor's hand away as he did and dropping his hand to clutch at the table as he did.

"Stop it. You're wrong." Harry protested, ignoring the stream of blood that trickled down his forehead, a crimson stain against Teal'c's hand drawn 'tattoo'.

"Lord Visnu." One of the guard's gasped, dropping into a kneel. "Our queen believed you to be dead."

Martouf was slower to kneel, gesturing the guard to silence and studying Harry in disbelief before he turned to question how it was possible.

The shock on Harry's face when he turned to Teal'c was almost comical, but General Hammond decided to step in before either side could say something that would return the situation to its previous confrontational note.

"Gentlemen, I believe that further discussion is needed before we may continue. If you will be so kind as to return to the gate room. We will rejoin you shortly."

"But Lord V-."

"Silence!" Lantash overrode the guard's protest before bowing to both Harry and the General.

"We shall await your convenience, General, but ask that it is not delayed. Sokar is not to be taken lightly."

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Once they had left, Harry spun back to Teal'c "He said Sokar, didn't he? That's the same name that the other snake, Apophis said was coming."

"It is as I thought, then." Teal'c acknowledged. "General Hammond, if I may call Dr. Jackson and O'Neill to speak with us. Ha'ri … conversed with Apophis, who became agitated and may have imparted information he did not intend to."

"Why do I feel that there is more to this than you're saying?" General Hammond asked dryly as Hary seemed to sink down into his chair.

"He conversed with the goa'uld in its native tongue." Teal'c's was just as dry, but the General felt as if it had knocked the wind out of him when he heard it.

"Dr. Fraser?" he questioned for confirmation.

"He's not a goa'uld!" she huffed though even she was looking at him now, oddly.

"I'm not." Harry grumbled.

"Son, no one is accusing you," Hammond offered gently, before continuing, "but if you could explain how you are able to speak in an alien's native language, it would be helpful."

"Like I told Mr. Teal'c, Sir, I can understand snakes and speak to them. I don't know how precisely, but I've been able to since I was a child."

"Son, I realize that Colonel O'Neill and others call the goa'uld snakes, but they are not truly snakes."

"I know. Mr. Teal'c said that too, and I don't know how or why I can understand them. Maybe it's something like the shape of their throats or snake like bodies result in a similar type of language. I just don't know, but even before he spoke - my head started hurting and bleeding like it does when … when I've run into someone else that can speak to snakes, too, so I knew kind of that he could, even before he started speaking."

"You know of someone else who can speak to 'snakes'," the general asked in alarm.

"Yeah. I know him." The child's voice was choked and painful when he responded, and Hammond hesitated to press, when Harry continued, his voice thick with pain, "He... he's the one who killed my parent's, and I bet he's behind … behind what happened at … at … Hermione's birthday party. He's done more than that, too."

"This person causes your scar to bleed, as Apophis does?" Teal'c cut through the silence that followed Harry's admission.

"Yeah, just like the guys that you just sent out. Are there goa'ulds working with you to? Like an underground group, or something? You did know they have … that they're possessed... didn't you?

"Yeah, we knew, Kid." Jack answered, catching Harry by surprise, "Question is, how do you? And, what was that earlier- with the soon-to-be-dead snake-head?"

Just a step behind him, Dr. Jackson posed an entirely different set of questions, seemingly out of the blue.

"Teal'c, did you suggest using the symbol? I mean, symbolically, it's perfect, but it is a bit of an in your face challenge- isn't it?"

"We were just discussing that Jack. Sit down." Hammond ordered - leaving the words "before you fall down" unsaid.

"Daniel Jackson, yes. I selected Ha'ri's mark for Garuda, an ancient enemy of the Goa'uld... it is chosen for his protection, DanielJackson, not as a challenge. All who become first prime are taught the symbol and instructed not to challenge any wearing it, but to immediately report the presence of the wearer... None who recognize it will risk the wrath of their lord by attacking someone who bears this mark in this at least there is some protection."

"I see. I wouldn't have thought of that." Daniel studied the hand painted tattoo, though he seemed to otherwise ignore Harry.

The legend of Garuda is from the Tau'ri, is it not?" Teal'c responded.

"Yes, in Hindu religion, Garuda was a large mythical bird or bird-like creature. It's usually depicted as the mount of the God Vishnu, with a golden body, red wings, an eagle's beak, and a crown on its head. According to some of the epics, when Garuda was first born, he appeared as a raging inferno. Supposedly, the gods were afraid of him, and to ease their fears, he reduced himself in size and energy."

"Wait a minute!" Harry gasped. His expression one of intense excitement as he asked, "You're talking about a phoenix, aren't you? You'd have to be."

"I'm not exactly certain," Daniel replied, sitting down beside Jack as he continued, "but yes, I can see how it may have been one of the originating myths."

"I didn't stop to think. With … with what happened … I … Sir? Can I try something? It probably won't work. I don't see how it can but he's … special … so it might."

"Try what, Son?"

"Calling him. He came to me once when I called to him."

"Who exactly do you want to call?"

"Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoen..."

Before Harry could finish his sentence, a long melodic trill of birdsong began to pour through the room... growing in tone and volume as though drawing closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the two general designs for the tattoo Teal'c drew on Harry. I've tried a few versions of what it would look like on Harry, but haven't come up with a pic that I like for it. When I do, I'll be sure to post it. 
> 
> http://tinyurl.com/7fxxefb : 
> 
> Although I like the meanings I gave each part of this first one, with the rough implication of wings and diamond to symbolize Garuda's tail, and the ^ and o, and upper diamond to symbolize Visnu as Garuda's rider, I felt it almost looked too much like a bird's face and trimmed it back to this one:
> 
> http://tinyurl.com/82puf95


	11. Chapter 11

A sudden globe of heatless flame erupted into mid-air in the center of the room, then vanished leaving in its wake a rather... well, to be honest, at least in Daniel’s opinion, a somewhat ugly orange, red, and gold bird with stunningly shaded feathers, but a somewhat scraggly neck and a beak that couldn’t seem to decide whether it was supposed to be a parrot’s, a bird of prey’s, or a song bird, taking a little from the shape of all. Scanning through his catalogue of bird images from every ancient dig he’d ever worked, Daniel quickly discarded one image after another until he was left with only the image before him.

While what Harry… no he mentally corrected himself, to use the child’s newly chosen moniker, while  what Ha’ri had called a phoenix might be a distant descendant of the archetype that spawned from the legend of Garuda, the likelihood of the strange firebird being related to a being of significance, who could intervene or aid them in facing their latest threat was diminishing rapidly.

Daniel hadn’t really known what he’d expected to see though, or why he had hoped that they had discovered yet another race of beings who had chosen to interact with earth populations in the guise of deities – particularly where the legends that he could remember of Garuda depicted a benevolent demi-god at war with a race of naga (snake demigods). Still, even given the bird’s amazing method of travel, Daniel couldn’t help but be disappointed in it’s anticlimactic arrival.

Judging by the expression on Ha’ri’s face, however, as the child unthinkingly lurched forward, to Ha’ri, the bird appeared to be an welcome sight. Seeming content to ignore his many lingering injuries to wrap his arms around the bird, Ha’ri pressed his face into the bird’s back.

After a moment, though, Daniel recognized the trembling in the child’s shoulders for what it was, despite the fact he could not hear what must have been sobbing. The supposed phoenix’s was unlike any bird he’d ever seen, though, not just in how it had reached them (perhaps even trans-dimmensionally), but also in how it accepted the child’s behavior with equanimity, only cocking it’s head over Ha’ri to watch the weeping child with an expression of almost compassion.

Distracting himself from the child’s distress, Daniel let his mind back to the first time he remembered reading of Garuda in the Mahabharata. A half-brother to Sesha, the eldest born a thousand snakes fathered by Kashyapa from his wife Kadru, Garuda was one of only two born to by Kashyapa, Kadru’s sister Vinatha, who lost her kingdom’s freedom wagering against her sister in an ill thought gambit. Garuda was thought to have ransomed his mother’s freedom by bringing the gift of immortality to the Nagas and allying with Vishnu – the deity who was claimed to know to the past, present and future, supporting, sustaining, and governing the Universe and elements within in accordance with their destiny. If even a one hundredth of the legend had been true, as they’d discovered with their recent encounters with Thor and the Asgard – the ramifications of their find would have been…well... inconceivable.

Pushing his thoughts aside before he let himself get too distracted, Daniel turned back to watch Ha’ri and the bird, finally realizing that he’d missed the stream of softly murmured apologies that the child was whispering into the unusually-patient bird’s feathered back. The string of apologies was almost heart-breaking, especially for Daniel, who was very familiar with the position the child had found himself in, beaten up both physically and emotionally and suffering survivor’s guilt over events he’d probably almost no influence or control over.

 Finding it too uncomfortable to watch, Daniel glanced towards Jack, wanting to see what his and Teal’c’s reactions toward the odd bird were, and caught his breath in shock.  
  
Of course, he knew Jack could cry. Not that he’d ever seen Jack let go of his GI Joe persona enough to really cry, and Jack’s eyes weren’t running over the rims when Daniel looked, even now, but there was something, a glimmer, or a glistening of some sort, that made it look like he was crying - the way someone cried for someone else’s pain, unobtrusively, almost unnoticeably, but with empathy and stoic compassion, the way Harry’s parents might have cried for him if they’d been there.  
  
Glancing around the room, Daniel was relieved to notice that the others were in an almost equal state of shock, with the exception of Sam who, looking slightly on edge, was on the phone more focused on trying to find out why the base’s klaxon’s hadn’t sounded with the arrival of their latest unexpected guest, than on observing the phoenix itself. Admittedly, it was only a bird, and not likely to try to capture their base, but it was the second breach of Cheyenne Mountain’s security in a single day.  
  
“He’s crying...” Sam murmured in his ear, as she came up beside him, apparently having finished her calls, and Daniel turned a shocked expression on her. Surely, she’d been in the military long enough to know that you didn’t point it out when an officer had lost composure. He didn’t know what to say, but Sam thankfully corrected him before he could stick his foot in his mouth.  
  
“Not Jack,” she hissed softly, “The bird.”  
  
To Daniel’s astonishment, she was right. He wouldn’t have thought birds cried, if he had ever thought about it, but there was no question that the bird was crying over the child, dropping glistening tears into his hair before curling its head and neck around the other direction to reach a spot where the child’s face was exposed and rub its cheek to Harry’s.  
  
Several minutes passed quietly as they waited for him to calm down, before Harry finally sat up and more than one of them gasped in surprise. Everywhere that the tears had touched his face, the dark, purple and darker bruising, lacerations, and swelling appeared completely healed.  
  
“How?!?”  
  
Realizing where the doctor was staring, Harry reached up and touched his face, then turned and thanked ‘Fawkes’ before he turned back to answer, “His tears have healing properties.”  
  
Daniel could have laughed at Janet’s expression of utter frustration, if he’d been willing to risk the prospect of her using the largest gauge needles in her stock on his next allergy injection.  Instead, he stifled his amusement when Harry left that single statement as if it were a complete explanation and turned back to the bird, asking “Are you alright? Were you hurt in the... by the...”  
  
The bird seemed to understand Harry’s difficulty speaking, and crooned a soothing tone that brought a brief, if sad smile to Harry’s lips that disappeared quickly as he continued: “Is there any... I saw the paper...I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried to fight them, but they had veritaserum. I couldn’t help it. I … Have you been … left all alone?”  
  
With incomprehensible understanding, the bird laid its cheek against the boy’s chest and chirped solemnly, causing another quiet round of tears.  
  
ブレンキン  
  
At last, just as Daniel was considering how he could get their discussion back on track, General Hammond beating him to the punch, though interrupting with clear reluctance, “I am sorry to disturb your... reunion with your.. phoenix, Harry.”  
  
“Ha’ri,” Teal’c intoned formally, correcting the general.  
  
“Ha’ri,” the general conceded before continuing, “but we appear to have multiple situations on our hands that need discussion. According to our guests, Apophis is attempting to escape another, highly-placed, Goa’uld lord whom the the Tok’ra claim can and will destroy the earth, if we refuse to turn Apophis over, simply on principle.”  
  
“Jeez, gotta love snakes with principles. By the way, remind me again we haven’t already chucked Apophis through the wormhole is.” Jack asked in a sarcastic tone that Daniel couldn’t help but roll his eyes at. It was amazing that more of their offworld missions hadn’t blown up in their faces, with Jack’s sense of tact.  
  
“He’s asked for sanctuary, Jack.” The general answered, grimly.  
  
“He’s asked for a hell of a lot more than that.” Jack retorted, angrily, “He wants us to give him another fu—“ Daniel forced himself not to chuckle when he saw Jack self-consciously catch himself (under the weight of Teal’c’s suppressive glare) and and quickly self-edit his rant, “another fricking host while he lets his human host die for whatever crimes he’s committed that this... this... What’s this new snake’s name anyways?”  
  
“Apophis and the men who were here earlier, the Tok’ra?” Ha’ri began, tentatively, seeming to expect that the others would cut him off, but gaining a small margin of confidence to continue as Teal’c affirmed his question with a nod.

“They called him Sokar…” Ha’ri finished abruptly as the phoenix flew from his lap with a squawk and flapped back and forth across the room in agitation.

“Why do I think that’s not a good sign?” Jack asked rhetorically as they watched the agitated bird sweep and dart across the room.

“Fawkes! Fawkes! Calm down, please calm down?” Ha’ri waved his hands in the phoenix’s path as he fluttered past.

“How could it possibly recognize the name of a Go’auld system lord, though?” Daniel had to ask. “It simply doesn’t make sense.”  

“Since when did we start expecting things to make sense, Danny?” Jack taunted mildly.

“Indeed, DanielJackson, by chulak standards, many things that SG1 have done do not make sense, yet we persist...” Teal’c paused turning to Ha’ri as the bird swept lower in its frantic flight back and forth almost seeming to bounce from wall to wall.

“Ha’ri, Chal'til, she’lam chel tral’lan kree.” Teal’c ordered pointing at the bird, tempting Daniel to explain that jaffa’s order to suppress the bird, but Ha’ri seemed to anticipate the request and began to croon a quiet melody that brought the bird back to his arm, the phoenix echoing his croon.

“Shhh... Fawkes, It’s alright. We won’t let the snake anywhere near you. I promise. It’s alright… Shhh. Shhh. Shh. Sh. Sh.” Ha’ri’s gentle murmur and his inclusion of himself into their ‘we’ brought smiles to Jack and even’ Teal’c’s lips, but only served to agitate the phoenix more.

Finally, after a perturbed squawk, the phoenix launched itself back into the middle of the room and hovered midair.

Ha’ri called out softly in distress, seeming to expect as Daniel did, that the fire bird was going to vanish again. Instead, however, the phoenix began to flap it’s wings more rapidly than Daniel would have thought possible, until its wings then its body vibrated and blurred like a hummingbirds wings, emitting a dusky red golden glow that expanded to an orb almost five feet tall and round.

Staring into the glow, Daniel watched, open mouthed, as a silhouette of the bird’s form expanded and reshaped itself into a somewhat humanoid shaped form, even as the glow itself shrank to match the form. Becoming more and more opaque with each breath, the dusky red-gold glow faded to a topaz amber skin, wrapped around a very familiar form.

“Garuda!?!” he murmured in shock.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry fell back on his seat, astonished as Fawkes transformed into a strange mix of man and bird. He didn't need to look around at the others that he could feel staring at him, probably with embarrassment, to know he must have look like an idiot with his mouth gaping open and closed like a gob-smacked fish, but he couldn't quite make sense of it.

Finally, Harry decided that even though Fawkes looked different than Sirius had looked, in his wizard form,  the phoenix must be an animagus and apparently one who preferred to live mostly in his bird form so much that he stayed half bird when he changed back?

Or it could be something to do with the way phoenix's burned to regenerate that; humans couldn't do that, so maybe Fawkes had decided to stay mostly in his phoenix form to have that ability.

It mostly made sense...  but then again, it wasn't as if Harry had really had the time to get to know all of the magical creatures in the magical world and learn about their forms; maybe like werewolves, centaurs, and vampires, phoenix were a mix of human and other animals. He really wished that Hagrid had gotten the chance to discuss phoenix in class. Shying away from the painful memory of the half-giant gamekeeper, certain, without thinking too deeply on it, the ministry would have no difficulty in capturing, and - based on its treatment of their other friends - killing Hagrid, Harry looked up again to find Fawkes right in front of him.

Fawkes knelt on one knee before him, reaching out a hand that Ha'ri almost wanted to shy away from, but this was Fawkes.  No matter what he looked like Fawkes had always been distantly friendly to Harry and had even helped Harry second year, so Harry let Fawkes grasp his hand and pull him to his feet. As he rose, though, he was startled to find that even on his bent knees, Fawkes in his half human form was still a good foot taller than him.

"Ha'ri," Fawkes rumbled in a gravelly voice that seemed at odds with the birds normal singing tones. "This should not have come at this time. Vishnu would not wish to invoke Krishna before you have reached the age of consent and make the choice freely. This is not how it should be. You have not even been given time to sow the seeds of Tapasya... but Sokar... the misbegotten spawn of Airavata... he will destroy Tau'ri if given any reason for he fears that Vishnu ... will ... He fears Vishnu. The Tok'ra are right that he will use the capture of Apophis as that excuse, but he must not possess Apophis. It is a difficult choice."

"Mind if I but in here?" Jack's voice cut through Fawkes confusing comments stepping beside and almost between Harry and Fawkes. "Mind me asking why we can't just chuck our old buddy Apophis through the gate into this Sokar's waiting arms? And don't give me that he's requested shelter, General Hammond, the way I figure it, Apophis is worse than a serial killer a couple of times over, and last I heard, we don't throw out the welcome mat for serial killers."

"He CANNOT," Fawkes protested. "Apophis has seen Ha'ri, has seen the mark of Vishnu. If Sokar possesses Apophis, he will discover this, and know..."

"Little more detail needed there," Jack pressed and Harry stared up at him in amazement.

He at least, Harry thought, had been part of the magical world, and this still had caught him by surprise when he had seen what magic could do. How could Jack, who couldn't know anything about magic, at least not more than any muggle knows, just take it in stride to be talking to a magical creature? Much less pushing him for answers.

"I cannot... I am bound...." Fawkes paused, staring at Harry with an oddly calculating look that made Harry nervous.

After a moment, though, Fawkes continued, his tone telling Harry that the phoenix that he was hedging on something, but Harry couldn't guess what. "Krishna has not been invoked. Sokar would know this. The tapaysas leave ... their mark when practiced to fulfillment of Vrddhi. Sokar will recognize its absence and know that Krishna has not been invoked, but is immanent, and his thirst to destroy the tau'ri - to prevent Vishnu's - coming would be unquenchable. The Shesha are scattered and cannot be called together so quickly."

"The Shesha?" This time Dr. Jackson broke in, his voice confused, quizzical, and impatient by turns.

 "But Sesha... was the king of nagas... That's snakes Jack..." Dr. Jackson supplied before continuing. "Please don't miss understand me, we would appreciate any assistance you can offer against Sokar and Apophis, and perhaps another couple dozen of the Goa'uld, I am not quite certain that we're ready to put ourselves into alliance with another Goa'uld, especially one who claims the title of the King of the 'gods'."

"No," Fawkes cut Dr. Jackson off impatiently, "You know the stories, but do not grasp their meanings."

Seeming to realize that his impatience would not help persuade him, Fawkes shook his head and rose, turning from Harry even though he continued to lightly grip Harry's hand much the same way Hedwig had when she landed on his wrist to deliver a letter.

Fawkes took a deep breath, seeming to prepare himself for an extended lecture before he explained:

"Sesha is not the king... but the kingdom of the Naga, whom were once known as the Kadru, the only kingdom that remained at the end of the Kalpa, before it fell to the aeon-long civil war among the descendants of the Kadru out of the stars of the Kashpaya, whom you know as Gou'auld. The Adishesha, of that time, looked upon the cruelty of peoples of Kadru on the planets Vasuki, Airavata, Takshaka, and a thousand others and deemed that they could not be permitted to exist for eternity. Adishesha coiled around them, captured their minds, and took from them the knowledge of eternal existence, binding it within those of the Kingdom of the Sesha, so that they could not speak of it to any who did not follow the tapaysa. Of the Naga, only Sesha is ananta... or eternal. The thou..."

"Whoa, slow down there," Jack interrupted, "Anyone keeping up with this?"

Harry watched, as the Colonel glanced back and forth between the general, thankful that he wasn't the only one who didn't seem to be getting the gist of the explanation, especially when the General and Captain Carter shook their head, negatively, but agreeing with his request to slow down. Dr. Jackson and Teal'c, on the other hand, nodded firmly and - more concerningly- both cast a quick considering glance toward him before confirming that they understood what Fawkes was saying... making Harry even more completely lost, without even a clue, and maybe more than a little bit jealous about it because, as far as he could tell, they hadn't even known about the wizarding world before he told them about it, and here they were completely following Fawkes, and Teal'c wasn't even from earth.

"Kayyyyy then," Jack drawled, "As long as someone does..." He finished with a wordless roll of his fingers, telling Fawkes to go on..

"The thousands of Sesha, who would not follow the Tapaysa, abandoned their planets in search of their own means to eternal life, but found only a means to half-life in their sarcophagi - but their false immortality even further destroyed their minds driving them to the corruption of war and madness. Only those children of Sesha, those whom you call Tok'ra, who adhered to the Tapaysas and sought eternal life through this path, the natural path, kept their minds, at the will of Brahma. And... the Adishesha uncoiled and time moved forward, but Vishnu who was born out of the earliest kingdom of Sesha as Arcavatara, who was not Adishesha, but who came before the Adishesha, was not content to allow the Naga not then known as the Goa'uld, the freedom to wreck their violence on the universe, unchecked. He who may have written the Tapaysas into existence on his breath, sacrificed himself, leaving the peace of Sesha's folds to swayambhu ... 'to manifest' as Vishnu in his thousand names, over a thousand centuries, and Sokar has been given many reasons to fear the coming of Vishnu. No..." Fawkes finished firmly, "He can not be allowed to possess Apophis."

Silence settled over them for several seconds as it became apparent that Fawkes wouldn't be saying anything more. Harry was glad to see that in addition to Jack, the General, Captain Carter, the Dr., a guard, and another man that was still carrying on hushed conversations over the phone, were all staring at Fawkes with the same look of confusion, that Harry was pretty sure was on his face.

Dr. Jackson seemed to have a better grasp of the situation though, at least, Harry thought his expression looked like he understood.

Jack seemed to think so, too because after a moment, he ordered, "Do that decoding thing of yours, Danny."

"Not really certain where to start, here Jack."

Surprisingly, Harry's new guardian, Teal'c began the explanation, "On Chulak, Jaffa practice the Niyamas observances of self-control contain a ritual called the Tapa'sya. It is a newly-initiated Jaffa's early training of self-discipline and austerity to prove their willingness to expended their life and their energy toward the higher purpose. The Gou'auld wished us to believe that they are that higher purpose, but it is a practice of restraining physical urges that can be applied to any goal."

"That actually, probably isn't a bad place to start," Dr. Jackson agreed with a smile, that faded to resigned patience as he read their general lack of understanding. "Okay, in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Tapasya can be translated as the focused efforts leading leading to  spiritual seeker can "burn off" negative energies to become "essential energy"... bodily purification," he offered when their confusion still hadn't cleared up... then followed up with "Spiritual enlightenment."

In an exasperated tone, "Transcendence? You've heard of it haven't you? Ascending to a higher plain of existence?"

"It sounds like almost like you're talking about dying and going to heaven, Danny."

"No, just exactly the opposite of that, Jack," Dr. Jackson retorted in an excited voice, "It's the escape from death. If I'm not mistaken, Harry's Fri-"

"Ha'ri." Teal'c, Fawkes, and Jack corrected Dr. Jackson, all at the same time, causing Harry to almost laugh in bemusement. He understood why it was important to keep up the ruse they were going to play on the base staff, but it did seem a little silly, when the pronunciation of the two names was so close, that coming from Fawkes, he could barely tell the difference.

"Fine," Dr. Jackson huffed, "If I'm not mistaken, I believe that 'Ha'ri's friend is saying that when Ha'ri reaches some cosmic age of consent, he'll be able be able to use the Tapaysa to 'invoke Krishna', which seems to be a state more than a name, to ... to transcend..."

Harry listened dumbfounded, shaking his head in disbelief. He could do magic, sure, but... but that was ... just magic... wasn't it? He had already seen enough of the wizarding world to know that wizards died just like anyone else.

"No, DanielJackson." Teal'c disagreed, "The tapa'sya turns one's energy inward giving it to the gou'auld within, not outward, and Ha'ri is nearly past the age of Niyamas training. Niyamas would begin when the initiate becomes host."

Dr. Jackson started to disagree again, but the General derailed it this time, "Gentlemen, let's come back to that. I would like to know why, pardon me son," the general paused, smiling at Harry as he continued, "I don't mean any offence, son, but ... even if Dr. Jackson is correct and Ha'ri can ... transcend, why would this be a threat to Sokar?"

All of their gazes turned toward Fawkes, who remained stolidly silent; his earlier comment that he was bound against making some kind of revelation still fresh in their memories.

It was Captain Carter, who made the connection, with a startled expression. "Martouf was right, or almost right, wasn't he? Lya said that Ha'ri carried the seeds of all, including symbiosis like the Tok'ra and Jaffa. Harry has a symbiote, like the Tok'ra, but one who's transcended already?" She asked Fawkes, who didn't answer. 

"That's why Martouf and the other Tok'ra thought you were possessed, but... like the Tok'ra, the Shesha... I'm guessing it's one called Vishnu... it won't force you to be its host, but wait until you reach whatever age its race considers the age of consent, and give you the choice, more than that, the Tapasya's are apparently a ritual or test for you to prove that you really want Vishnu to... well I really don't know, based on how the Tok'ra work, I'd say share bodies, that's probably why the Tapa'sya focuses inward to ... channel a connection to the symbiote...  but if it's Vishnu's essential energy then may be share... The closest concept that I can think of is to share souls?"

As Harry listened to Captain Carter, slowly making sense of what she was saying, and beginning to feel dizzy and slightly horrified at the thought of having a snake inside him. His heart was pounding in his ears as he stared at them, shaking his head to deny what she'd said even though other questions that he hadn't wanted to think about were asking and answering themselves in his turbulent thoughts.

"Why did he understand the snakes even before he was sent through the 'gate'? Because he had a snake symbiote.

"Why didn't Voldemort win the fight to possess him, in the Ministry of Magic? Because he was already possessed.

"How could he have survived the fight in the riddle graveyard by himself, when Voldemort was stronger and more experienced by 50 years? Because he wasn't by himself.

"How could he survive the basilisk bite?" Because his symbiote was transcended?

"How could he survive Quirrell's hands on him when Quirrell couldn't?" Didn't Quirell Burn off, like the Dr. Jackson said 'unpure' energies would? His chest tightened as he remembered the man's flesh burning under his fingers.

"How could he survive the killing curse?" Because Vishnu knew how to escape death?

Harry's vision tunneled, and he felt strong arms that he was just beginning to recognize as Teal'c's cupping around his back as he felt himself wilting backwards out of chair into his guardian's grasp.

"I'm sorry," the words were on his lips to say, but the words that actually came out were softer and deeper than he thought his voice normally, as he heard himself request, "Garuda, my old friend, sing for Ha'ri; he needs rest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wonder, what if the bit of soul that Harry carried inside of him wasn't Voldemort's? 
> 
> I did and that's what prompted this story. If it wasn't moldy voldy, than what or who was it? and where else could it play?


	13. Chapter 13

"It is as Garuda has described," the sleeping child in Teal'c's arms continued to speak even as the half-human-half-phoenix... alien crooned a lullaby, "Ha'ri has not been properly prepared to invoke Krishna, even should he wish to."

Teal'c seemed the only one unaffected by the voice that broke from the small movement of lips in Ha'ri's sleeping face.

"What is the risk to Ha'ri if he should try, without preparation?" It was a pragmatic question that he knew his teammates and hosts would not appreciate, but they had no reference for Sokar and did not grasp the impending threat.

"It is not possible." the voice that Teal'c assumed to be that of Vishnu denied firmly. "I will not permit it, and he will not attempt it."

"But what is the risk?" Teal'c pressed even as O'Neill and Hammond appeared ready to protest.

"There will be no risk. It will not be permitted. You do not understand when you say risk, as though it is something that by chance could occur one way or not. This would be a not be risk... a potential event... it would be a sacrifice... a meaningless, meaningless sacrifice." Ha'ri's voice bore the weight and sadness of great age as it spoke leaving no one in doubt of the being's sincerity as it continued.

"Without preparation, there is only immolation. Even one who had prepared and trained to within weeks of invocation...as had Prince MahSattva, facing almost insurmountable odds to that end that I permitted myself to be swayed, was sacrificed... Though his sacrifice saved his people for a short time, in the long term, the kingdoms of the T'gress soon hungered for the wealth of MahSattva's kingdom and people... and soon returned, to their downfall. Had he waited the weeks, completed his preparation, and chose invocation for it's rightful purpose, his life and the lives of his people could have been ensured."

Teal'c nodded, lifting a hand and gently stroking it over Ha'ri's shaved head. He would not permit Ha'ri's sacrifice if it lay within his power to prevent, but neither was Teal'c willing to shield his eyes from unpleasant realities. 

"Sokar is coming." He offered in simple retort.

"Yes," The sleeping form agreed, "and he would gladly destroy Tau'ri on any excuse, but he must not possess Apophis... nor can Sokar be permitted to threaten the Tau'ri for that would as surely drive Ha'ri to risk immolation to prevent further loss. Ha'ri will be protected and be assured the unhindered choice... nothing else would succeed." 

The soft voice paused for several moments, in seeming contemplation before asking, "Garuda, my friend, how long has it been since you have hunted the stars?"

The phoenix-man jerked up in surprise, gasping, "Eons, My Lord Vishnu, I have never left while you were bound."

"No," the ancient tone turned affectionate, "I had not expected that you would. Do you not think, though, that it is time to take wing, again? Do wait until Sokar is within sufficient range to allow attack to believe that Apophis and this base were simply lures to draw him near enough for you to strike. Remind him why he fears Vishnu."

"Yes, Lord Vishnu," Garuda agreed, excitement lifting his tone, and he turned even as he spoke back into the almost blinding globe of heatless flame hovering in the center of the room, before it swept back toward the gate-room to disappear through the gate, not seeming to even notice the closed iris as he passed through it nor the Tok'ra visitors who dropped to their knees in deference... crying out Garuda's name in awe and relief.


End file.
